


Building the Future

by LadyRa



Category: Batman - All Media Types, NCIS, Smallville
Genre: AU, Crossover, F/M, First Time, M/M, Threat of Rape, but there is no rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-09
Updated: 2012-09-09
Packaged: 2017-11-13 20:49:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 104,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/507585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyRa/pseuds/LadyRa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lex's father dies, sending him to Metropolis; Clark gets kidnapped; Tony is fed up, quits NCIS, and decides to go visit his cousin, Martha, in Smallville; and Gibbs wonders what the hell happened to his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> NOTES: This story covers a two year span. Bear with me in terms of where Smallville, Metropolis, and Gotham City are in relation to each other. I made them the perfect distance to work best for my story. LOL. Batman is almost all Bruce Wayne in this story, billionaire, and suave business guy and man about town. Oh, and I made some changes to how some of Clark's powers work; it's not a mistake, it was intentional. Just didn't want any of you purists yelling at me. LOL  
> WARNINGS: Threat of non-con, but it doesn't happen. Deaths of two main characters. Mwahahaha. I love killing off people I hate. Only thing that would be better was if I'd managed to kill Pa Kent off, too (and trust me, he only escaped death by a mere thread, and I still manage to sort of get rid of him. Just read, you'll see). If you are a Pa Kent fan, be advised that I'm not, especially in this story. Also, I muck with everything. This is an AU that sucks everything into its path. LOL. There’s also not much Ziva in this, if you are a real Ziva fan.  
> THANKS: Thanks to my AWESOME betas. One of these days I'll post a story when I'm done with it, and then post it when my betas are done with it, and you'll see the difference!!! For this story my thanks go to JillsJourney, Joolz, Annie, and Susan. Also, an extra thanks to Teresa and Heidi for all the brainstorming at Media West!
> 
> Thanks to ctbn60 for the wonderful cover art!

****

**May, Year One (right after Clark's 16th birthday)**

**Smallville:**

At the high school Spring Fling Dance, the decision was made to not alert the students about the tornadoes until it looked as if they might be heading their way.  If they did, the students would be taken downstairs to the basement shelters for safety.

Clark, oblivious to the danger outside miles away, danced with Chloe, exchanging a gentle kiss with her, smiling down as she beamed up at him.

* * *

Lana, in her panic, forgot everything she knew about tornadoes, and rather than throwing herself into the nearest ditch, got back into her truck.  A large tornado sucked the truck into its vortex and she was gone. 

* * *

Even as Jonathan Kent was punching him, Roger Nixon had the presence of mind to remove and pocket the media card from his camera.  When Kent got his fingers around his neck, ripping his camera away, threatening to use his guts for garters if he ever darkened the Kent farm's door again, Roger, through the pain of his broken nose, pretended to be cowed, agreed meekly, and then smirked all the way to his car.  He had the card in one pocket, and a piece of the alien's ship in the other.  It was time for Roger Nixon to stand up and be noticed.

* * *

Blood streaming from a cut above his eye, Lex shoved the bookcase that had fallen on him and staggered to his feet.  He made his way to his dad, almost slipping in a widening pool of blood.  He stared down at his very, very dead father, whose head had been crushed by a broken beam. 

Adrenaline still surged through his body, a combination of the pain he was in, the rage he'd felt at his dad at the closing of the plant, and the fear from the inexplicable explosion of the windows in his office and other end-of-the-world special effects.  Staring down at his dad, his body trembling, Lex had no idea how to feel.

* * *

Martha carefully tended to Jonathan's cuts and bruises.  Nixon had slashed his arm with the corner of the camera before Jonathan had wrested it away.

"We don't tell Clark about any of this," Jonathan stated firmly.

"Jonathan, are you sure?  I think he'd want to know." Martha placed the last of the steri-strips closing the wound.  Being a farmer's wife had made her quite adept at first-aid.

"I don't want him running off doing something stupid."

"That reporter saw the spaceship," Martha protested.  Or at least she thought he had.  They'd found him at the top of the bulkhead door but Jonathan had leapt on him immediately, more concerned with putting the fear of God in him and chasing the man off their land than with getting all the facts. 

"We don't know that for sure."

Martha sighed, silently cursing her husband's temper.  He'd thrown the camera in the furnace in anger, frustration at the threats to his son overcoming common sense.  As it had bubbled and melted, Martha couldn't help but think it might have been nice to see what he'd taken pictures of.

"Besides," Jonathan added, "without any proof, he'll just sound like a lunatic."

"You don’t think he'll come snooping around again?" Martha asked.  “I can’t believe you scared him off that easily.”  

Jonathan made a fist, as if he'd be more than willing to beat the man up again.  "He won't be back.  I understand men like that, Martha.  He's all bark." 

"I hope you're right."  Martha placed her hands on her husband's shoulders, resting her forehead against the top of his head.  "What would he have done with the pictures?"  Fear for her son made her heart pound.

"Sell them to someone.  Someone like Lex Luthor," the name dropped off his lips as if even the sound of it tasted bad.  "That's assuming he wasn't collecting the information for Lex in the first place."

"Jonathan," Martha cautioned.

"I don't want Clark to have anything more to do with that boy," Jonathan announced.

"Lex means an awful lot to Clark," Martha said cautiously.

"I don't care.  I just know that Lex is somehow behind this.  We already know he investigated Clark once."

Martha sighed.  Her husband's excessive antipathy toward Lex had always confused her, even considering his past with Lionel.  "And we also know he stopped.  I don't believe he'd do anything that would hurt Clark."  And she truly didn't.  Lex loved Clark.  Martha wasn't sure exactly how, but she could see it in his eyes.

"Anything a Luthor touches goes bad," Jonathan spit out.  "I never should have let them become friends in the first place."

"Lex has been a good friend to Clark."

"How do you know, Martha?" he countered.  "Clark's as blind as everyone else in this town.  Who wouldn't be seduced by all that power and money?  And let's not even talk about those cars he drives."

"We've taught Clark better than that," Martha objected.  She'd always suspected a large part of Clark's appeal to Lex was that Clark did know better, that his feelings for the younger Luthor had little to do with his money and the trappings of wealth. 

Jonathan shook his head.  "Choosing to be friends with Lex should never have been Clark's decision to make.  He's too young to see the truth.  So, I'm laying down the law right now.  Lex has always been too curious about Clark and being with him has only whetted his appetite."

"What are you talking about?" Martha asked.

"Can't you see it?" Jonathan asked darkly.  "Lex wants Clark.  There's this hungry look in his eyes whenever he's with him.  If he could, he'd eat Clark alive."  Jonathan's eyes expressed his deep disturbance with the idea.

"You think that Lex is attracted to Clark?"  Martha was surprised that Jonathan had seen it.  Or more correctly, allowed himself to see it. 

Jonathan snorted.  "Attracted is too mild a word for it.  And I'm not even talking about sex, although I think that's part of it.  There's something about Clark that Lex craves, and it makes my skin crawl."

Martha moved to the stove to put some tea on; movement around the kitchen akin to meditation for her. 

"Lex looks at Clark like an addict looking at their next fix," Jonathan growled, interrupting the brief silence.

Martha turned around, leaning back against the counter by the oven.  "Clark looks at Lex the same way," she said softly, even knowing the explosion she was risking.

She got it.  Jonathan stood up angrily, his chair skittering a few feet before falling with a crash.  "No, he doesn't.  Don't say that."

"Jonathan, we can't turn back the clock.  Maybe if we could it might have been better if Lex and Clark hadn't met, but they have, and--" And Martha was pretty sure that cosmic worlds had collided that day, for better or worse.  Her heart beat in fear for her son again.  And for Lex.

Jonathan moved quickly until he was standing in front of Martha, his hands grasping her shoulders.  "Trust me, Martha.  Lex is bad news and he's not welcome here any longer."

"Jonathan--"

"I don't know what the exact story is, but I know Lex is behind that reporter being here tonight.  I know it," he repeated.  "And I don't want Clark within a mile of anyone with the last name of Luthor."

"Jonathan--" Martha tried again.

Jonathan slashed a hand through the air.  "That goes for you, too, Martha.  He's not above using any of us.  Or of trying to pay us off if we catch him in the act.  We don't need him, and we don't need his money.  I'm not letting Lex Luthor buy this family."

* * *

It wasn't until the prom was over, and Clark and Chloe were in her car, that they realized there'd been tornadoes in the area.  As they headed for Clark's home, they saw flashing lights up by Lex's mansion.  Clark convinced Chloe to drive there, and as she wove her way through the police cars, fire engines and ambulances, finally coming to a stop, he leapt out, frantic, looking for Lex.

His breath caught when he saw a body bag being loaded into one of the ambulances.  Even more frenzied now, he darted between the men and women hovering around the door.  It wasn't until he got inside and saw Lex sitting on the bottom stair, a bandage on his forehead over his right eye, talking on the phone, that Clark allowed himself to breathe.

"Lex," he called out, heading across the room.

Lex saw him and a look of relief crossed his face as well.  He spoke into the phone, "I'll call you back," and flipped it shut.  "Clark, you're all right."  He eyed Clark head to foot and smiled tightly.  "Even your bowtie's still straight."

Clark's hand reached up to touch the black fabric and grinned at Lex.  "Thanks to you." 

Chloe was suddenly there at Clark's side, and she was pinching him.  "You could have waited for me," she hissed.

"Chloe, you look very nice," Lex said.

She beamed at him, even as she self-consciously touched her hair.  "Who, uh--" she pointed toward the front door and what lay beyond.  "Who died?"

"My father," Lex said calmly.  Only his shaking hand, as he accepted a drink from one of the many suited people milling around, betrayed his emotions. 

Clark's jaw dropped.  "Your dad is dead?"  Clark sat down next to Lex.  "That was your dad?"  He inched closer.  "Are you--?  That was your dad?" he asked again.  Lex's dad was dead?  That seemed inconceivable to him.  The thought of his own dad dying made his stomach hurt.  "What happened?"

Lex touched the bandage on his forehead, wincing slightly.  "The tornado happened.  It shattered the window in my office and brought part of the roof down."

"On your dad?"

Lex nodded.

Chloe twisted her mouth up to the side.  "You don't seem too shook up about it."

"Chloe," Clark admonished. 

She shrugged.  "Well, he doesn't.  If it was my dad I'd be freaked."

Lex gave her a wintry smile.  "My father's and my relationship was--complicated."

Clark grimaced.  He knew what that meant.  It meant that Lionel Luthor was a complete and utter asshole, and it was a miracle that Lex was so, well, not like him.  He wished he and Lex were alone so he could give his friend a hug.  Lex might accept hugs in private on particularly bad days, but he hated PDAs.

"Have you been home?" Lex asked.

Clark and Chloe shook their heads.  "No, we saw the lights and came over here," Clark said.

"You should probably go home.  I'm not sure where else the tornadoes touched down.  You should make sure your folks are all right."

Clark cringed; he hadn't even thought of that, too concerned with making sure Lex was all right.  "I could call them."  He wanted to make sure they were fine, but he really didn't want to leave--and not just because Lex might need him.  For whatever reason, as crazy as it seemed, when most of the world thought Lex was bad news, Clark felt the safest, and the most able to be himself, when he was with Lex. 

Lex patted his leg.  "Go home.  I have a lot of business to take care of.  I'll probably be leaving for Metropolis in the morning."

Clark didn't like the idea of that.  "For how long?"  Then he squirmed a little at his self-centeredness.  Lex's dad had just died and all Clark wanted was for Lex to be available for him. 

He got another pat from Lex.  "I don't know.  A few weeks at least."  He glanced around the room and let out a wry laugh.  "The king is dead."  Then, so softly Clark barely heard it, Lex muttered, "Long live the king."

Clark glanced quickly at Chloe, sort of wishing she'd go away for a moment, even as he felt guilty about it at the same time.  He'd just been kissing her like she was his girlfriend, but all he wanted right now was to be with Lex.  He leaned in and spoke softly, "I'll stay if you want me to.  If you need me for anything.  I can even go with you to Metropolis."

The look he got from Lex warmed him up like hot chocolate; it also made him want to stick even closer.  But Lex was shaking his head.  "That means a lot to me, Clark, especially because I know you mean it.  But you need to go home.  I'll keep in touch, I promise."

Clark nodded and reluctantly stood.  "Call if you need something.  I can come right over."

Two men in suits appeared, clearly wanting Lex's attention.  Lex gave them a brief nod and then looked up at Clark.  "Thanks for coming by."  He spared a brief smile at Chloe.  "Both of you."

Chloe returned his smile tightly, a sorry-your-dad-died-but-can-we-leave-now sort of smile.  Clark figured it was time to go.  It took a lot of self-control not to grab Lex and give him that hug.  Clark was pretty sure Lex would go through this whole thing, worrying about LuthorCorp, arranging the funeral, everything, without getting any kind of hugs at all, and Clark thought that sucked.

Lex smiled up at Clark again and, with a weary sigh, turned to the men and began to speak to them.

Clark dragged his feet out the door, intermittently looking back at Lex, really, really wanting to stay.  But finally they were outside, and Chloe was unlocking the car and looking at him with the expectation that he get in it.  Now.

Blowing out a frustrated breath, he slipped into the passenger side and put on his seatbelt.  They left Lex's property, following the ambulance that was making its bumpy way down the driveway.  Once they reached the main road, the ambulance turned right, and Chloe turned left.  "I can't believe Lionel Luthor is dead," Chloe said. 

Clark wondered if a part of Lex was glad.  Maybe even more than a part of him.  All of it belonged to Lex now.  He could run things how he wanted.  He could leave Smallville for good and run LuthorCorp from Metropolis.  He could even close the Smallville plant, or not reopen it, as technically, it was closed right now. 

Clark hoped it didn't make him a pervert that the thought of Lex with all that money and power was sort of a turn on.  Not that any of it was why he'd become Lex's friend.  In fact, usually Clark didn't like all that money because it got in the way, put this weirdness in between them that took an effort to knock down over and over again.  But now Lex wasn't just the son.  Now he was, well, Lex had said it back at the castle.  Now he was the king.  King Lex.  Clark grinned at the corn as they whizzed by it.

They arrived at Clark's farm, and he was glad to see that there didn't seem to be a lot of damage.  And then, all of a sudden, he realized that he was alone in the car with Chloe, and that he'd kissed her before.  For some reason that seemed like years ago and he'd lived a whole life between then and now, and maybe him and Chloe wasn't such a good idea.  How could it be when all he wanted was to be back with Lex?

He smiled nervously at Chloe.  "Sorry, that was sort of a weird way to end the night."

She smiled nervously back.  "Yeah.  I had fun, though."

"Yeah, me, too."  There was a pause.  "Do you, uh, do you want me to go with you to your house to make sure everything's all right?"

She shook her head.  "Nah, I'm good."

"Okay."  Clark sighed in the darkness at the lameness of this conversation.  "So, um."  This was agony.  He tried to think back to the kiss at the gym.  It had been so nice.  Maybe there hadn't been any fireworks, but it had been nice. 

The front door to his house opened up and his mom was standing there, the porch light revealing a worried expression.  "Clark?"

Clark let out a small sigh of relief.  He gave Chloe an apologetic look and leaned in to kiss her cheek.  "I guess I'll talk to you later."  Then he grinned.  "Thanks for the ride.  Sorry I couldn't get one of Lex's limousines."

She shrugged, grinning back.  "No problem."

He opened the door and unfolded himself out of the seat.  Then he leaned down and gave her a wave.  "Night."

She nodded.  "Night."  Chloe turned the car around and drove away, after yelling out a greeting to his mom.

  
Clark walked to the door.  "Everything okay here?  We didn't even know there'd been tornadoes until we left the dance."

She nodded.  "Everything's fine."

Something in her voice alerted Clark and he looked at her more closely.  He followed her into the house and saw the bandage on his dad's head.  "What happened?"  He glanced at his mom.  "I thought you said everything was fine," he gently accused her.

His dad touched his head.  "Nothing to worry about, son.  The storm whipped up some debris and your old man just zigged when he should have zagged."

Clark stared suspiciously at them both.  Their voices didn't sound right, almost as if they were begging him to believe them, almost as if they had something to hide.  Suddenly he remembered his news.  "Lex's dad is dead.  The tornado made the roof cave in and he got caught in it."

"I suppose Lex is just fine," his dad said disapprovingly.

"What's that supposed to mean?  Jeez, his dad is dead; you might pretend to care."

"All right, all right.  I'm sorry."  As if the words hurt him to say, his dad choked out, "Was Lex injured?"

Clark decided it wasn't worth the effort to get into it.  "He's mostly okay.  He's got a few scrapes and bruises.  I couldn't visit with him long, there're a million folks over there."

His dad got that look on his face, the one Clark hated more than anything.  "Clark, I don't want you going over there anymore."

"Dad," Clark started to protest.

"No, I mean it.  Lex is going to be too busy to spend any time with you, and you shouldn't waste his time."

Clark stared at his dad, and then at his mom, who occasionally came to Lex's defense, but they stared back at him, united.  "If he calls me, I'm gonna go over there," Clark said mulishly.  "He needs a friend right now."

"He'll be too busy to call," his dad said matter-of-factly.  "You might as well get used to the idea that Lex will move back to Metropolis now that his father's not around to enforce his exile to Smallville.  I know you don't like to hear it, but the only reason Lex tried to fit in here was because he had no other choice."

Clark wished he understood why his father hated Lex so much.  If there was anything he could change about his dad, it would be this.  In almost every other way, he had the best dad ever.  Deciding retreat was the best defense right now, Clark just gave his parents a vague nod. "Well, I'm sort of tired; I'm gonna go to bed."

His mom came over and gave him a hug, reaching up to kiss him on the cheek.  "You look so handsome."  She smiled.  "Did you have a good time with Chloe?"

He nodded.  "Yeah, Chloe's great."  Clark's life felt unexpectedly complicated, even more than usual.  "So, um, goodnight."

"Goodnight, son," his father said. 

* * *

The next day, Clark found out that Lana was dead.  Her truck and body had been found ten miles outside Smallville, next to a shed that had been set down by the tornado in almost the same shape it had been picked up in.  Lana hadn't been so lucky.

In his grief and guilt, Clark destroyed a third of a corn field by running through it at tumultuous speeds and letting his arms scythe the stalks in two.

* * *

Roger Nixon, who hadn't yet left Smallville, got it all on film.  He thought over the evidence he had and decided it was enough.  He'd heard about Lionel's death, and decided Lex was probably too busy to see him now.  Besides, he didn't like how Lex talked to him, so Roger would just find someone else to sell his information to.  He had an idea; with a little assistance from his friend Bill, he might be able to pull it off.

* * *

When Clark got home, he went up to the loft in his barn and stared at the telescope; it was still set to Lana's porch.  It didn't seem possible that she'd never be there again.  That she was gone.  He wondered if Whitney knew, and if not, who would tell him.

Even Clark could appreciate the irony of Whitney going off to fight in a war where he'd be facing death every day, and before he'd even gotten out of the country, Lana gets killed by an act of God.

Clark was consumed by guilt.  He should have been there.  He should have known.  It seemed inconceivable to him that while he'd been dancing and enjoying himself, Lex's life had been turned upside down, and Lana had died.

Lana was dead.

Lionel was dead.

Lex was probably going to go away.

That one hurt the most.  Clark felt badly that Lana's death wasn't the thing that hurt him the most, but the thought of losing Lex was far worse.  Without giving it any more thought, Clark raced to the castle.  As soon as he got there, he could see he was too late.  Everyone was gone.

Clark didn't even need to go inside.  He swore he could always tell when Lex was inside.  It was like the whole building stood a little taller or gave off sparks.  It sounded silly, Clark knew, but he could still always tell.  Lex was gone.  Off to Metropolis.  Off to a new life that maybe didn't include Clark.

He thought about racing to Metropolis, but that would be hard to explain to Lex, and this didn't seem the night to tell anyone that he had all these superpowers when it didn't seem like he could save anyone.

He ran home even faster, as if by running as quickly as he could, he could leave his ghosts behind.  His dad was waiting in the yard when he got back.

"Where have you been?" Jonathan asked, accusingly.

"He's gone, Dad, all right?" Clark bit out. 

"Good."  Jonathan stared at him another few seconds and then turned and climbed up the steps to the house.

Just for a second, Clark hated him.

* * *

The next day, Clark answered the phone when it rang.  "Kent Residence."

"Clark," Lex said.  "I just heard the news."

Clark was glad his dad was out in the fields somewhere.  "Yeah, things have been pretty bad around here."  It was like the meteors had hit again.  Or how Clark imagined it must have been.  The first disaster took out Lana's parents and made her the honorary ward of the entire town.  This time, it had come for Lana.

"Are you all right?"

I wish you were here, Clark thought to himself.  "It's just a lot to deal with."  And I wish you were here to help.  "How are you doing?"

"They're keeping me too busy to feel anything.  I've been in meetings non-stop."

"I wish I could be there with you," Clark said.

"I wish I could be there with you," Lex said in return.  "If it was anything but this, I'd cancel everything and come back to Smallville.  But--"

"I get it, Lex.  Your dad died.  That's huge."  Clark supposed it was just as well that Lex wasn't here until his own dad had a chance to cool down a little.  Clark had no idea what had gotten him so worked up about Lex this time.  He wanted to ask when Lex might be home, but Clark wasn't up to hearing Lex say he wasn't coming back.  Maybe Clark could go visit Lex there.

Clark could hear someone talking to Lex, telling him he was late.  Clark was flattered Lex had taken the time to call. 

"I'm afraid I have to go," Lex said unhappily.  "Take care of yourself, Clark.  If you need anything, call me."

"Same to you, Lex."

Lex hung up, and the resulting silence seemed particularly loud.  Clark hung up just as his dad walked in the front door. 

"Who was that?" Jonathan asked, frowning.

"Chloe," Clark lied.

Jonathan grunted and went to the sink to pour a glass of water.  Clark grabbed his backpack and headed for the barn.  Weird how life moved on.  Lex was in Metropolis, maybe for good, Lana was dead, but Clark still had homework to do.

* * *

Lex stood with his drink in hand and stared down at the city of Metropolis, thinking of Clark.  Strange how out of the countless numbers of people who were there to serve him, all Lex wanted was a sixteen-year-old boy from Smallville. 

The physical distance between them sucked, as did the timing.  Lex wanted Clark here with him, and he wished he could be there with Clark.  Lana's death would be a difficult one for Clark to deal with, as he'd worshipped the ground she'd walked on for years.  In any other circumstances, Lex would have been there, but right now it truly was impossible.  It was taking all the public appearances he could handle to keep LuthorCorp stock from plummeting.  His father might have been an asshole, but his stockholders had believed in his ability to make money.

Lex knew he could do it.  In fact, he was reasonably certain he could do it even better.  He just wasn't sure he wanted to.  Living in Smallville had changed him.  Having responsibilities, people who looked to him, watching his Smallville plant thrive because of his own efforts, having a friend like Clark--they had all changed him. 

Maybe it was time to pare down.  He took another sip of his drink, watching the city glitter, and wondered just how many billions one man needed.

* * *

The next day, in between meetings, Lex phoned Clark to check on him.

"Kent Farms," Jonathan Kent's voice came over the phone.

Lex grimaced, wishing Clark had answered.  "Mr. Kent, it's Lex Luthor.  Is Clark around?"

"No, he's not," Jonathan said hostilely, "and I've told him that you'll be too busy to bother with him anymore."

That sounded like an order to Lex, and he didn't appreciate it.  "We're friends, Mr. Kent," he said carefully, wanting to stand his ground but aware of the fact that Clark's father wasn't exactly rational when it came to him.  The memories of Mr. Kent's words under the influence of the Nicodemus flower still stung.

"He's too young to be friends with the likes of you," Jonathan bit out, "and it's time he got out from under your thumb."

Lex wondered what had set the man off this time.  "Perhaps if you told me what was bothering you--" Lex tried.

"I'll tell you what the hell is bothering me," Jonathan snarled.  "Some a-hole named Roger Nixon was sniffing around here.  That name sound familiar to you?"

Shit.  "Whatever he was doing there, it wasn't on my behalf," Lex said guardedly.  "I made it very clear to him that our business was at an end."  At least about Clark, Lex amended in his mind.  He'd made that fact indisputable to Nixon when he'd promised to ruin the man if he focused any attention on Clark or his family.

"You might be able to fool a sixteen-year-old with that sort of evasive talk," Jonathan said angrily, "but I know he was here because of you.  You don't know how to be friends with someone.  You don't even know what the word means."

Lex's stomach knotted as Mr. Kent came a little too close to the truth for comfort, except for one thing.  "Not Clark," Lex protested.  And yes, he had made some wrong decisions regarding Clark, but he'd never purposefully chosen to put his friend in harm's way.

"Especially Clark," Jonathan hissed over the phone.  "Stay away from him.  Stay in Metropolis.  No one wants you here." 

The phone slammed down in Lex's ear and, as he pulled the phone away, Lex was dismayed to see his hand was shaking.  He slowly placed his phone on his desk, taking in several deep breaths to try to find some semblance of calm.

* * *

Roger straightened his tie, wanting to look his best, knowing that he was hitting the big time here.  Yasser Farouk was as big as it got.  Money, power, connections--people didn't even say his name without looking around to make sure no one was eavesdropping.

Never in a million years would Roger have approached someone like this, except he knew he had something just that good.  Something amazing.  Something that was going to make him a boatload of money.

His friend, Bill, had wanted in on the deal, and Roger had had to promise him thirty percent of whatever he got before Bill would call a friend who knew a friend.  At least Roger had kept what he was selling a secret.  Bill had tried to pry it out of him, but all Roger would tell him was that it was big.  Really, really big.

Bill's anticipatory greed had finally taken hold of him when Roger had started talking about millions.  Whatever this Kent kid was, he'd be worth a fortune to somebody, and this Farouk guy was the man to see if you wanted to sell something like this to the right somebody.

There'd been rumors on the streets for a long time about auctions where items beyond belief were sold for millions, sometimes billions.  Mythical items, one of a kind items, occasionally illegal items.  Only the very, very, rich were invited. 

That was all Roger had ever been able to find out on his own.  At least it was all he'd been able to find out that sounded like the truth.  He'd heard plenty of nonsense--how there'd been a unicorn auctioned off once, and Big Foot, that millions had been bid for one night with the most exotic courtesan in the world.  The urban legends were plenty and, until now, Roger had been willing to write most of it off as a hoax.

That was before he'd seen a teenage boy do the things he could do.  Before he'd seen a spaceship in the storm cellar of a Smallville farmhouse.  Now he was willing to entertain the thought that unicorns existed, along with a yeti or two. 

He had no idea how Bill knew what he knew about Farouk.  Roger was good at ferreting out secrets, but he'd gotten nowhere.  Whatever system Farouk had put in place to protect the identities of who was doing the bidding as well as the items he put up for auction, it had seemed impenetrable. 

But Bill had come through, and now Roger was standing outside an unmarked door wearing his best suit, with photos and film in hand, ready to make the deal of a lifetime.  He ran a hand down his torso, straightening his suit jacket, hoping it would help quell the nervousness in his gut.

Finally, getting up the nerve, he knocked.

* * *

Clark waited until his father was out in the fields before he called Lex.  He'd never seen his father this insane about Lex, and it wasn't worth the hassle of getting caught.

On the other hand, Clark had no intention of not talking to Lex.  His mom had gone to town to drop off some pastries at the Talon, planning on doing some shopping while she was there.  So, with both parents out of the kitchen, Clark decided there wasn't going to be a better time.  Picking up the phone, he dialed Lex's number.

"Clark," came Lex's voice.  "It's good to hear from you."

"Yeah, me, too," Clark said, relieved.  Lex hadn't called since the night after Lana's death, and Clark was afraid there might not be a place for him in Lex's life anymore. 

"I’m sorry I haven't called," Lex said after a moment's pause.  "Things have been crazy."

Clark didn't need Lex to tell him that.  Lex had been on the news every day, dozens of microphones being shoved in his face.  It seemed as if the entire world was focused on LuthorCorp stock and whether Lex would be able to handle his legacy.  Clark had no doubts, but it couldn't be easy to cope with things with that kind of audience.  Not that Lex didn't like being in the limelight, but there was limelight and there was blinding lights, and this was all about the latter.  "Are you all right, though?" Clark asked.

Another pause.  "I'd be better if I had my best friend with me," Lex finally admitted.

Clark couldn't stop the thrill that shot through him at Lex's words.  He knew he was obsessed with Lex, always had been.  He'd figured it was okay because Lex was just as obsessed with him.  But, despite Clark's secrets, he'd always felt that Lex was so much more interesting, and that it was only a matter of time before Lex would eventually turn his sights to something more appealing than a teenager from Smallville.  "I can be there in three hours," Clark offered.  Actually, he could be there in five minutes, but then he'd have to hang around for two hours and fifty-five minutes before he could knock on Lex's door.

Another pause.  "I'm tempted to take you up on that offer, but…"

Clark swallowed, suddenly nervous.  "But?" he prompted.

"Family's important, Clark, and I don't think your parents would be very pleased if you came to see me," Lex finally said.

"I don't care," Clark said stubbornly.  "They don't understand."  They had never understood his and Lex's friendship; had, in fact, felt threatened by it, and Clark was sick of it. 

"I do," Lex said softly.  "It's enough that you would come if I needed you here.  I can't tell you what that means to me.  And I'm sorry I can't return the favor."

"I get why you can't come here," Clark said.  Then, hesitantly, he asked, "When's your dad's funeral?"  Clark would be there for that, come hell or high water.

"Friday at two pm," Lex said, then with a snort added, "It's at the Cathedral, of course, with Bishop O'Reilly officiating, per my father's will."

Clark snickered.  Naturally, Lionel would go out in a huge news-worthy splash.  "Not the Pope?" he asked with a grin, even as he acknowledged that this was a pretty morbid topic to be teasing about. 

"Trust me, if my father could have arranged it, the Pope would be here."

"I miss you," Clark said.

"I miss you more," Lex said.

"Shit!" Clark said.

"Something I said?" Lex asked humorously.

"That's when Lana's funeral is," Clark griped.  "How weird is that?  It's the same day and the same time.  Crap."

"You need to go to Lana's funeral," Lex said firmly.  "No one will understand if you're not there, whereas I will understand why you're not here."

Clark knew it was true, and it was also true that he wanted to go to Lana's funeral.  Lana had been a huge piece of his life for years, and he still couldn't quite believe she was dead.  And while, as a friend, he wanted to stand by Lex, Clark couldn't care less about being at Lionel's funeral.  His mother would scold him for being uncharitable but, as far as Clark was concerned, the world was a better place without the man in it.

"I wish I could be in both places at the same time," Clark said.

"I really do understand, Clark," Lex said kindly.  "The funeral is likely to be even more of a zoo than these last few days have been, and I might not have the time I'd like to spend with you.  I'd rather visit with you after all the ruckus is over, when I can really focus on you."

Clark liked the idea of that.  He liked it when Lex focused on him; he'd never felt anything like it.  It felt like when Clark stood outside, soaking in the sun to get his strength back, except Lex gave him a different kind of strength, something indefinable but just as necessary.

"After the funerals, then," Clark said.  "Either you come here, or I'll go there, all right?"

"Sounds good," Lex said.

Clark heard his father's footsteps out in the yard.  "I better go.  Take care of yourself, don't drink too much, and don't forget to eat."

"Yes, mom," Lex said with a grin in his voice and disconnected.

When his father came in the door, the phone was on the counter, and Clark still had a grin on his face.

"What's the joke?" his father said good-naturedly.

"Nothing," Clark said, moving to the refrigerator to get something to drink.  He didn't miss his father's quick glance at the phone. 

"Somebody call?" Jonathan asked casually, even as his eyes narrowed.

Clark sighed, wondering if it would be better to lie or just tell the truth.  He went for somewhere in between.  "Nope," he said.  After all, he'd been the one to call Lex.

Jonathan looked like he wanted to launch into another Lex-is-the-devil talk; he'd been handing them out like free candy lately, at least a couple a day, but he just moved to the sink to wash his hands.

* * *

Lex put his phone away, grinning, warmed by Clark's admonitions.  For a moment, he wished his father wasn't dead, so Lex could still be in Smallville, spending a normal evening watching TV with Clark at the mansion.  Not that their time together was truly normal.  From the moment they'd met, there'd been something more, something that drew Lex in like a bee to honey. 

He stood up and moved to the window, looking down on his city.  For the first time, his destinies were colliding.  He'd always taken for granted the fact that he'd assume his rightful place as heir apparent after his father's death.  But, since meeting Clark, he'd also assumed that Clark would be there at his side.  Right now, he was beginning to wonder if he could have one or the other, but not both.

Pressing his palms, shoulder width apart, to the window, he allowed himself a second to rest his forehead between them against the cool glass, permitting himself a moment of melancholy.  The timing of his father's funeral was no accident.  He'd found out when Lana's was and scheduled Lionel's for the same time.

He'd done a good job telling himself it was to protect Clark from Jonathan Kent’s wrath or to keep Clark from doing something that would estrange him from his family, but Lex knew the truth.

Lex didn't think he could handle it if no one from Smallville came to his father's funeral.  He was afraid that he meant so little to those people, even the people he'd worked with at the plant for the last two years, that no one would make the effort.  And while Lex liked to pretend he was indifferent to the opinions of others, he wasn't.

So, he'd made it impossible for anyone to come, even Clark.  It was safer that way.  If someone asked, he had a reasonable excuse as to why no one from Smallville was there.  He'd have a good reason for why he was standing alone at his father's funeral.

He was suddenly pierced by a longing to see Clark and wished he'd taken him up on his offer.  Then, pushing it aside, along with his melancholy, Lex moved back to his desk.

* * *

Yasser Farouk only met with a select group of people and foremost among them was his right hand man, Mohammed Ayman.  “What do you think?” Yasser asked him.  He trusted Mohammed’s instincts implicitly.

“I think this boy will make you a very rich man,” Mohammed said.  “I think you need to watch the tapes.”

“And the fool who brought the information?” Yasser asked.

“Truly a fool,” Mohammed said scornfully.  “One of a line of fools that brought you to his attention.”

“Ah,” Yasser said.  “Then, perhaps, we should invite them all in for a personal show of gratitude.”  No one was allowed to know of his existence except those Yasser wanted to know.

“What shall I tell him we will pay?” Mohammed inquired.

“Whatever will entice him and his line of fools to return,” Yasser said.  He reached across the desk and picked up the small video tape, as well as the file containing the photos.  “I assume he has more he is holding hostage until he gets his money?” Yasser asked.

“Of course,” Mohammed said with a sneer.  Mohammed hated amateurs almost as much as Yasser did.  “Although he had it with him and has already shown it to me.”

“What was it?”

“He claims it is a piece of a spaceship,” Mohammed said without batting an eye.

His equanimity was only one of the many things Yasser appreciated about Mohammed.  “Does he understand the danger?”

Mohammed snorted.  “He is a trusting fool.” 

“Then we will take it from him tomorrow,” Yasser said, “with the lure of an open briefcase full of more money than he has ever imagined.”  It would be the last money he ever saw.  There was a reason no one spoke of Yasser Farouk, and once Mohammed got the names of the informants, their deaths would be a further reminder of why.

“I will make the arrangements,” Mohammed said respectfully, as he made a slight bow and left the small office Yasser was using for this particular interaction. 

Yasser opened the file to find the face of a handsome young man.  Just the face alone could make him money.  The next one was a blur, perhaps photographer error, perhaps not; it was too soon to tell.  The next few photos were pictures of an exploding truck that, if the sequence of photos were to be believed, showed the young man inside the truck when it exploded, then exiting it, unscathed, other than a burning shirt which he then ripped off, leaving him standing unhurt a few feet away from the truck.

That body would make him even more money. 

He flipped to the next series of photos to find a car slamming into the young man, only to leave the car a totaled mess, while he was, again, unscathed.

There was a picture of the alleged spaceship, a picture of the young man lifting a tractor up while an older man fixed something underneath, a series of pictures with times on them showing the speed with which he hammered in fence posts with his bare hands.

He pushed the small cassette into the equipment Mohammed had provided.  Ten minutes later he popped it out, pursing his lips, thinking Mohammed was right.  This young man, this alien, was going to make Yasser a very rich man, and he was already one of the richest.

There was a knock on the door.  “Come in,” Yasser said, knowing it was Mohammed.  When Mohammed entered, Yasser asked, “Is he gone?”

“Yes,” Mohammed said disparagingly.  “He will return tomorrow at 3:00 with his friends so they may share in the bounty.”

Yasser grinned at his friend.  Mohammed would enjoy putting an end to the fool’s life.  “I need more information,” Yasser said.  Mohammed nodded.  It wasn’t necessary to tell him what Yasser needed, Mohammed knew.  Except for one thing:  “I need to know his weaknesses.  And get the spaceship.”

“Of course,” Mohammed said. 

Then Yasser would put together his guest list.

* * *

Lana’s funeral was awful, and Clark hated every minute of it.  Most of it was just because it really meant Lana was dead.  Part of it was that Chloe was hanging on to him, wanting to hold his hand, with a look of expectation on her face that made Clark’s gut churn.  It made him feel guilty because he’d kissed her less than a week ago and now he didn't want to touch her at all, and it sucked.

Part of what made it awful was that everyone was looking at him with pity in their eyes as if he was going to throw himself on her coffin and cry.  Sure, Clark had cared about her, even loved her in a way, but there was so much confusing stuff wrapped up with everything that had been Lana.  A lot of it had been painful and humiliating, and there was a tiny, tiny part of him that was glad it was over.  And that made him feel guilty.  It was bad enough he hadn’t saved her, now he wasn’t even one hundred percent sad that she was dead. 

All in all, it was one of the worst two hours of Clark’s life, ending up here at her gravesite, the minister talking about her short life, and how her parents’ lives had been cut short as well, and the unfairness of it all and how you could never understand the inscrutability of God, and how you just had to trust, and it made Clark wonder how God fit into his life when he wasn’t even human, and came from another planet that maybe worshipped giant turtles, or sun spots or something.

His dad kept looking around, and Clark knew he was checking to see if Lex was going to show up.  Clark had told him he wouldn’t be there, and his lack of trust in Clark, and his ongoing hate-Lex-campaign was pissing Clark off, making him even more miserable.  As far as Clark was concerned, if Lex happened to show up after deciding to blow off his father’s funeral, Clark would be thrilled to see him, and he’d go sit with him, and maybe even hold his hand, because right now Lex was the only thing that was making sense to him.

* * *

As expected, Lionel Luthor's funeral was ridiculously pompous and his dad would have loved it.  It almost made Lex sad he was dead, because it would have been amusing to listen to his dad's cutting comments about everything and everyone. 

Lex, on the other hand, hated it.  Not that he was a fan of spending copious amounts of time feeling sorry for himself, but he didn't think there was anyone at the funeral that actually cared about him; rather, they cared about what they could get from him. 

He'd been propositioned five times.  Three times during the funeral, pieces of paper with telephone numbers on them were secreted into his hands, and twice at the cemetery.  All five pieces of paper were wadded up in his pants pocket, from which they would end up in the nearest trash receptacle.

Lex wasn't in the mood to sleep with anyone.  Well, that wasn't actually true.  He was in the mood to sleep with one person.  Clark.  Not to have sex, at least that wouldn't be the main reason, not right now.  No, he wanted to sleep with Clark because he was big and strong, and he cared about Lex, and Lex wanted to crawl into bed and have Clark curl around him and keep the world away for a little while.

* * *

Clark moped around the house after the funeral and wake were over.  He'd tried to call Lex twice already, finally giving up, figuring that the funeral for someone like Lionel probably took longer than the one for a country girl like Lana.  In fact, when he turned the TV on, Lex was front and center, being besieged by reporters as he was trying to get into his limousine at the grave site.  It made Clark furious for him, and he had to clutch the couch hard to keep himself from racing to Lex's side and pushing all those stupid people away from his friend.

He glanced down and saw that he had actually dug his fingers into the couch.  His mom was going to kill him.

The funeral story switched to the regular news, and the anchorman said, "This just in.  The police are investigating what looks to be a gang related homicide.  The bodies of six men have been found in a dumpster behind an abandoned warehouse.  All six men appear to have been tortured before being killed.  None of the bodies have yet been identified and there appears to be no information explaining why they were killed.  Now, the weather."

Clark thought that was weird, but he switched the channel, hoping to catch some more of Lex, even as he knew that the media frenzy had to be driving Lex insane.  And while seeing him on TV only made him miss his friend more, it was better than not seeing him at all.

"Clark," his father said, frowning at the TV.  "There're chores that need to be done."

"Yes, sir," Clark said, shutting off the TV.

* * *

Lex dialed Clark's number and almost considered hanging up when Clark's dad picked up.  "Hello."

"Mr. Kent," Lex said politely.  "Is Clark around?"

"Lex, I told Clark that it's time for you two to go your separate ways," Mr. Kent said firmly.  "I think with your new role as head of LuthorCorp, Clark's life here and your life there are too different.  Clark isn't ready for that."

Lex wanted to argue, wanted to explain that the thought of Clark's steady presence and constant friendship was all that was keeping his head above water, but he could hear the man's intractability in his voice.  "Would you at least tell him I called?" Lex asked.

"I think it would be better if I don't," Mr. Kent said, as he disconnected the phone.

For a minute, Lex schemed about how he could get a phone to Clark, how he could find ways to talk to him, to see him, to keep him in his life.  There was absolutely no way Lex was giving Clark up, despite the seemingly innumerable obstacles now dividing them.  There had to be a way.  And as soon as Lex had a moment to breathe, he'd figure it out.

Then, his assistant was there, and the people for his next appointment, and Lex had to focus his attention on work, even if his heart was wishing otherwise.

* * *

Yasser smiled as Mohammed laid out his plan, a large chunk of a greenish colored crystal on the desk in front of him.  Unsurprisingly, the plan was a good one, but then Mohammed never disappointed.  "Tell me when our item is acquired," Yasser said, "so I can send out invitations."

Mohammed bowed, and left the room, a piece of Kryptonite clutched in his hand.

* * *

**Smallville**

**Monday:**

Clark was at a payphone trying to call Lex.  His dad was still monitoring the phone at home, and every time Clark went near it his dad would start to glower.  He had a stack of quarters, and he put one in and dialed Lex's cell phone. 

"Clark?" came Lex's voice.

Relieved, Clark sagged against the hard plastic enclosure, "Lex."

"It's good to hear your voice," Lex said.

"Yours, too."  It was the first time Clark had felt like himself since the funeral. 

"I tried to call, but--" Lex stopped mid-sentence.

A flash of anger swept through Clark.  "My dad?"  He closed his eyes, trying not to crush the phone. 

"Sorry.  I didn't mean to say anything."  Lex sounded honestly penitent, not that Clark would have cared if Lex had purposefully ratted his father out.  It pissed the crap out of him that his father was refusing to pass messages along and being so stubborn about Lex.

"No, I'm sorry he's such a jerk," Clark said.  "I don't suppose you feel like sending me a cell phone, do you?"  He thought he could hide a cell phone from his dad.  And while he normally wouldn't ask for Lex to spend money on him, the two of them staying in touch was essential. 

"I'll get one out today," Lex told him.

Clark could hear the relief in his voice, as strong as his own.  "Did you hear about Roger Nixon?"  The bodies had been identified, and one of them had been the reporter.

"Yes," Lex said.  There was a pause.  "Your father told me he was at your house the night the tornadoes hit.  I think that's why he's so opposed to us remaining friends.  I know he blames me."

"You told me he wouldn't bother me anymore," Clark said, confused, even if his parents' odd behavior that night and since made much more sense now.

"I know I did.  I thought I had contained the threat.  I did everything I could short of physically assaulting the man.  Apparently, I was less persuasive than I'd hoped." 

The phone beeped, breaking the silence, and Clark fed it some more quarters.  When he was done, Clark said, "You didn't send him to the farm, Lex."

"I think your father's right to blame me, though," Lex finally said.  "It was me who got Nixon interested, and I'm sorry for that."

Clark had known Lex long enough to know that he never did anything by half measure.  His plans were just like Lex--larger than life--and it made it hard for them not to go wrong.  He supposed he should be mad about it, especially if that's why his dad got hurt, but Clark was so annoyed at his father, and missed Lex so much, he didn't even care.  "It's okay."  He glanced at his watch.  He needed to be at school in less than five minutes.  "I have to go."

"I'm glad you called, Clark," Lex said.

"Me, too."

"Expect a delivery at school today."

Clark worried about that for a moment, what other people would think, but then he decided he didn't care about that either.  "I'll talk to you soon, then."  He really had to go, but he was reluctant to hang up.  He wished he was with Lex so he could watch him walk around the room with that small smile on his face.  Watch his earnestness when he gave Clark advice; watch him drink one of his blue bottles of water.  Clark missed all of it.  He hadn't realized, until right now, how much he needed to see Lex.  "This sucks," he blurted out.

He heard a soft mirthless chuff of laughter.  "I miss seeing you," Lex said, as if he'd been reading Clark's mind.

"Talking on the phone's better than nothing," Clark agreed, "but not as good as seeing you."  He glanced at his watch and winced.  Even with his super speed he was going to be late.

"No," Lex said.  "Nowhere near as satisfying."

There were things being said here, important things, underneath the words.  Things that made Clark's heart pound, and his groin grow heavy, and if he thought his father was freaking now, Clark couldn't imagine what he'd be thinking if he could hear this conversation, or be inside Clark's head.  If Lex knew about him, about his powers, Clark could be there in minutes, watching him, maybe touching him, and just that fast, Clark knew he had to tell Lex, because there was no way Clark would survive this separation for long.

"You need to go," Lex finally said.  "You're already late."

"I know," Clark admitted.  He just clenched the phone harder, and he could feel the plastic creak in complaint.

"Go," Lex said.  "I'm hanging up."  It took him about thirty seconds, but finally Lex did disconnect.

Clark slowly hung up, feeling a grin grow on his face.  He had no idea how he'd make it happen, but he and Lex were supposed to be together.  Lex had said it after that whole creepy thing with Bob Rickman and Kyle Tippet, after Lex had tried to kill him with that assault rifle, telling him that their friendship was the stuff of legends.  Clark snorted.  Somehow that seemed so typical of their relationship.  God knows, between the two of them, they could hardly have a normal friendship.

He left the phone booth, his thoughts slowly shifting to his present reality, trying to come up with a good excuse for being late.  He should have had Lex come up with one for him.  Clark looked around to make sure no one was watching him before super speeding it, and was surprised to find two men standing a few feet from him, watching him.

Clark panicked for a second, wondering if he'd done something without realizing it.  He checked the phone booth but saw it was still in one piece, even the phone.  "Did you need something?" he finally asked.  That was when he felt it.  The meteor rock.  He took a step backwards, preparing to run, thinking if they knew about the meteor rock, they knew about the rest of it.

He bumped into someone and, turning around, he found two more men.  It threw him off enough to keep him from running and now he could really feel the effects of the rock, and it brought him to his knees.  "Wait," he gasped out. 

But they weren't waiting.  Two of them grabbed his arms, while one opened the side doors to a van.  The fourth moved to the driver's side of the car.

He tried to fight, but he was already too weak, and there was more meteor rock in the van.  Much more, and they tossed him on top of it.  Clark curled up in a ball, even the strength to roll off the rocks beyond him right now.  All he knew was pain as the meteor rock affected him.

"You don't think it will kill him, do you?" one of them asked.

"Get rid of some of it," another voice answered.

Clark felt someone scoop under his body to remove some of the rock, but it wasn't enough to make a difference.  The pain intensified, and he groaned; it felt like acid was running through his veins and arteries.  He knew the men were talking, and he felt them again removing some rock, but he was beyond comprehension, inundated with pain.  His last thought, before succumbing to the darkness that was encroaching, was a silent call for Lex.

**NCIS Headquarters:**

**Thursday:**

The real question, Tony thought miserably to himself, wasn't whether Gibbs loved him or not, something he desperately wanted Gibbs to do.  The real question was if Gibbs liked him at all.  Or maybe he couldn't even stand him.  Tony had been wondering about that lately, and now that he’d started wondering, Tony was cringing at how long it had maybe been going on, and how long Tony had been oblivious to it. 

He watched as Gibbs headed down to speak with Abby.  "Do you think Gibbs likes us?" he asked Ziva and Tim.  He was perfectly happy to throw them in the deep end of the pool, too.  The thought that it was only him that Gibbs disliked didn’t sit well.

"What?" Ziva asked.

"Gibbs," Tony said.  "Do you think he likes us?"

"Does it matter?" she said.

Tony wondered, for about the zillionth time, what life was like inside Ziva's head.  It was a place Tony didn't think he'd want to hang out.  "Sure," he said.  "It's nice when people like you."

"Caring what other people think makes you weak," she said scornfully.

He stared at her with pursed lips for a long moment and then turned to Tim.  "You believe that?"

"No," Tim said.  "I don't think there's anything wrong in caring what other people think, at least to a certain extent," he added cautiously.

Tony wondered if Tim was directing that at him specifically.  "A certain extent?" he repeated, soliciting more information.

"Well, sure," Tim said.  "I mean if you care so much about how someone thinks about you that you lose yourself, or step over your own ethical boundaries to make them happy, that can be bad.  That sort of stuff."

That sounded pretty reasonable to Tony; maybe Tim hadn't been trying to score a point off of him.  Even if he was able to fool most people, Tony knew he could be insecure.  He also knew, having been told this by multiple therapists, most of whom he ended up sleeping with, that he could be way too dependent on needing certain peoples' approval.  It was why Tony had created a persona who acted like he didn't care.  It wasn't as good as actually not caring whether people approved of him or not, but it was better than being publicly flailed alive on a regular basis. 

"Do you think Gibbs likes us?" he asked Tim.

"Sure, I guess," Tim answered.

"I mean really," Tony pushed.  "He likes Abby, right?"

"Yeah," Tim agreed.

"He likes Ducky," Tony added.

"Yeah," Tim agreed again.

"He treats them really differently than he treats us," Tony pointed out.  "He kisses Abby."

"You want him to kiss you?" Ziva asked, one eyebrow up.

Tony rolled his eyes.  "That's not what I'm saying.  I'm just comparing how he treats people I know he likes, to how he treats us."  How he treats me, he amended mentally.  Gibbs didn't smack Tim and Ziva the way he did Tony.  And Gibbs looked them in the face when he was talking to them.

He'd been noticing, recently, when he'd get in an elevator with Gibbs, that Gibbs didn't even turn around to look at Tony.  He talked to him over his shoulder.  Who does that?  Granted, Gibbs had never been the poster boy for good communication, but the only time Tony did stuff like that was when he really didn't like someone, enough so that he couldn't even bear to look at them.

And Gibbs was hitting him a lot lately.  For the first time since he'd worked for Gibbs, the back of Tony's head was sore.  Tony had had a low grade headache all last week from the head smacking.  He couldn't help but feel that they were angry smacks, maybe even I-can't-stand-you smacks.  Just the thought of that made Tony's guts churn.

"They don't directly report to Gibbs," Tim said, interrupting Tony's painful reverie.

"He was pretty nice to Stan Burley," Tony pointed out.

"Who?" Tim said.

"Never mind," Tony muttered.  That had been Kate.  And it had been Kate who'd brought it to his attention that he was being somewhat pathetic in his need for Gibbs’ attention.  She'd tried to make him feel better on the ship, as if he was a five-year-old being taunted by a school yard bully.  But when they'd gotten back home after working that case with Burley, she'd suggested he snap out of it because it was pitiful the way he needed Gibbs' approval.  Kate had always wielded a painfully sharp tongue.

The thing was, Tony used to think Gibbs liked him.  Used to think that Gibbs really liked him.  Used to think he'd catch Gibbs staring at him out of the corner of his eye, maybe even checking him out. 

Not so much any more.

"He's not really nice to Fornell," Tim mused, "and he's known him a long time, and I think they're sort of friends."

"Good point," Tony said.

He wasn't sure when it began to change.  Wasn't sure when the tone in Gibbs' voice began to be more irritated than amused, more disgusted than affectionate. 

Maybe after the whole thing with Ari and Kate.  Certainly Gibbs had pursued his job and their cases with a renewed vigor and focus, less willing to put up with any distracting bullshit.  Maybe he blamed Tony for Kate's death.  God knew Tony still blamed himself.

Maybe it was when Gibbs lost his memory and sailed out of here both literally and figuratively, abandoning Tony like he was so much flotsam and jetsam.  And, then, when he returned, he abandoned Tony in a whole new and humiliating way, by taking the team back over and demoting Tony back to field agent without a word of thanks or explanation.  Maybe, in the midst of grappling with his missing memories, Gibbs forgot that he sort of liked Tony. 

"He was often not nice to the Director," Ziva mentioned, "and they were lovers at one point."

"That's different," Tony said.  "Throwing sex into the mix always changes things and makes them awkward."  Things had definitely gotten strained between him and Gibbs with his undercover work for Jen.  He'd lied to Gibbs on his first gig for Shepard, and if he hadn't actually lied the second time around, Tony had certainly committed the sin of omission.  Tony knew Gibbs had lost some faith in him.  Maybe that had been the beginning of the end.  It had certainly put a strain on Gibbs' and Jenny's friendship.  Gibbs had been pissed at Jenny beyond belief about the whole thing.  Tony had hoped it was at least partly on his behalf, Gibbs' actions always spoke louder than his words.

The words were essentially non-existent.  Abby had told him how upset everyone had been, including Gibbs, when they thought Tony had been blown up in his car, but even Tony's supposed death hadn't caused actual words to leave Gibbs' lips. 

"I think he likes me well enough," Tim threw out, a little smugly, Tony thought.  "He buys me coffee."

"Once," Tony said through a clenched jaw.

"More than once," Tim said even more smugly.

Gibbs had never bought Tony coffee.  He'd never bought him a damn thing.   Well, okay, pizza, when Tony was on death row.  Somehow that didn’t feel like liking as much as pity.

"I think you should not let it matter so much," Ziva said with one of her I-know-so-much-more-than-you looks.

Tony squeezed his lips tight to avoid telling her to fuck off.  Telling Tim to fuck off.  Maybe telling Gibbs to fuck off.  He looked back at his computer, trying to remember what the hell he'd been working on.

Maybe it was that mission with the FBI, the set-up, maybe Gibbs had started disliking him after Tony got in his face down in the morgue.  Or maybe it was after Tony had saved his and Maddie's life.  Maybe Gibbs didn't want to be beholden to Tony.  Lord knows Gibbs hadn't said a word of thanks.  Again.  Hadn't even looked at Tony on the dock or afterward. 

Gibbs for sure hadn't wanted Tony to meet his father.  Had made a point of excluding him, or trying to, Tony amended with a small smile.  As if even Gibbs was going to keep Tony from learning something new about him.  Anything.  Everything.  He wanted to know everything about the man.

"How about you, Ziva?" Tony asked tightly, although he was doing his best to come across as calm.  "Do you think Gibbs likes you well enough?"

"I think Gibbs believes I am a good agent, and that he is glad I work for him," she answered definitively, no doubt in her voice.

It made Tony hate her for a second.  Somehow he just knew that Ziva had never had a true moment of self-doubt in her life.  Oh, she had moments, but something in her would just squash the sentiment like a bug under her heel until it was gone.  He hated people like that.  Envied them.  Tony spent too much time doubting himself.  Rehashing his decisions, reliving his mistakes.

Tony tried to think of the last time Gibbs had said something nice to him.

Well, okay, he was sort of nice to him when he was stuck away being agent afloat, and he promised to get him home.  Which he did.  Of course, when he saw Gibbs for the first time after being apart for so long, he must have looked hungry or something, because he had complete strangers telling him to tone the lust factor down. 

Tony couldn't help it.  He loved, no, that wasn't a strong enough word.  He adored--no, too girly.  He yearned--no, too bodice ripper.  He, well, maybe hungry was the right word.  He was hungry for Gibbs like a starving man.  He needed Gibbs like oxygen.  Like his lungs would collapse if he couldn't breathe Gibbs on a regular basis.

He sometimes wondered why.  The guy was an asshole.  If he wasn't already an alcoholic, he was fast on his way to becoming one.  He treated most people like dirt.  He had no regard for people's personal lives, just assuming that everyone was as married to the job as he was.  He'd been divorced three times, and was probably paying so much alimony, even if one of his ex-wives had remarried, he could barely afford groceries, which could explain why Tony was the one buying groceries both times he'd stayed with the man.

Okay, that was something good.  Gibbs had let him stay with him.  Twice.  Not willingly, true, but he'd opened his house to him.  That had to mean something, right?  Of course, it was over two years ago, but at least Gibbs must have liked him then, right?

"Do you think Gibbs likes you?" Tim asked Tony.

"Everyone likes me, Probie," Tony said.

"He hits you a lot," Tim pointed out.

"And he gives you a lot of the grunt work to do," Ziva teased.

Tony sneered a smile at her, making a point of not letting it show that the fact that other people maybe thought Gibbs didn't like him was killing him. 

It had to have been the lying, Tony thought.  The undercover mission from hell.  The nine circles of hell.  First circle: Jen played him.  Second circle: he lied to Gibbs, not once but twice, so that was sort of the second and third circle.  Fourth circle: he fucked over Jeanne.  Fifth circle: the Frog ended up dead, anyway.  Sixth circle: another fucking car in smithereens. Seventh circle: Jeanne tried to frame him for murder.  Eighth circle: Jen was dead and it was partly, if not wholly Tony's fault.  "And the ninth circle of hell, boys and girls," Tony said loudly as he stood up quickly enough to cause his chair to bounce off the back wall of his cubicle.

"Is going to be your ass if you don't have something to report, DiNozzo," Gibbs said briskly as he stalked to his cubicle.

This was the ninth circle of hell.  Right here.  Gibbs didn't even look at Tony, just shot a glare his way.  The job and Gibbs were giving him a fucking ulcer.  Tony knew he was insecure, but this job, and being around Gibbs, was making him certifiable.  "I quit," he announced. 

"What?" Tim yelped.

"Shut up, DiNozzo," Gibbs said, dismissing him.  "McGee, what've you got?"

McGee shot a worried look at Tony, but then faced Gibbs, saying, "Ensign Douglas made three phone calls the night he died."

Tony let out a silent chuff of laughter.  Gibbs obviously didn't even care if he quit.  Well, okay, maybe Gibbs didn't actually believe him.  Probably thought Tony was being dramatic to deflect Gibbs from noticing that he didn't have anything to report.  But he did, god damn it.  He always did.  He was a good fucking agent.  He'd been a good fucking cop, and he needed a vacation so he could get his fucking head straight again, because he was going fucking insane.

So Gibbs didn't like him.  Fine.  You know what, Tony thought, I don't really like him either.  I need him like I need gravity and food, true, but-

And here Tony had an epiphany.  Gibbs was bad for him.  He was like a drug, like an addiction, and Tony had lost all rational thought regarding him.  When complete strangers were calling him on his addiction, it was maybe time to go cold turkey.

He noticed that McGee was still babbling.  The thought of going cold turkey, of actually, on purpose, never seeing Gibbs again, took Tony's breath away.  He put his hands on his desk to keep from dropping to his knees and puking. 

Ziva was talking now.  Okay, so maybe cold turkey wasn't the way to go.  Maybe he needed an in-between step, like some sort of Gibbs methadone. 

"DiNozzo," a strident voice, tinged with anger, cut through his nine circles of hell.

"Boss," Tony said, tuning back in, only to find Gibbs, Tim, and Ziva all staring at him.

"If you don't open your mouth and start talking," Gibbs threatened, "you won't need to quit."

Tony looked at his computer, praying desperately that something there would jog his memory.  Almost faint with relief he said, "Airline tickets.  He had airline tickets for two for tonight.  To Italy.  Not too many people buy expensive, first class, tickets to Italy and then off themselves."  He sat down, grateful for the momentary distraction from his breakdown.

"Who was he going with?" Gibbs barked.

"Alicia Wright," Tony said after scrolling down a little.

"And do we know who Alicia Wright is?" Gibbs asked menacingly.

"On it, boss," Tony said, fingers pressing keys.

"McGee," Gibbs snapped out, putting Tim on the hot seat again.

The man truly was an asshole, Tony thought.  He'd always been an asshole, except for the occasional moment when he wasn't one.  Brief moments; certainly not long enough to make up for being such a consistent asshole.  Yes, the man was committed to his job.  Yes, he was a brilliant investigator.  Yes, the man had buried a wife and child--which he'd never told anyone about.

And yes, that sucked, Tony couldn't imagine what losing a child must be like, but you know what, and Tony knew he was the pot calling the kettle black here, but had Gibbs never heard of therapy?  At least Tony was in therapy.  Intermittently.  At least he knew he was fucked up.  Tony wondered if Gibbs knew he was fucked up, too.  He seemed to take such inordinate pride in being a bastard.  For the first time, Tony wondered if that was a made up persona like Tony's.  Maybe the real Gibbs--the real Jethro--was someone completely different.  Maybe for Shannon and Kelly, or his ex-wives, or for Hollis Mann, he was charming, witty, funny, doting.

"You having trouble paying attention, DiNozzo?"

"No, I'm fine," Tony said.  "Alicia Wright, I got an address."  Then Tony winced, "ooh, and a death notice for her.  Maybe he did off himself.  She died, boss.  A week ago."  He checked the tickets.  "He bought the tickets a month ago."

"They were engaged to be married," Ziva said.  "I just found the engagement announcement."

"Well, that sucks," Tony said.

"Ya think, DiNozzo?" Gibbs said disparagingly.

There was no Gibbs methadone.  "Yeah, I do think, boss," Tony said.  He stood up again, pulling off his badge and placing it on his desk.  He kept his gun; it was his.  Of course without the badge, he didn't have a license to carry, but he'd figure that out later.  "And I quit.  I'll be back later for my stuff."  He grabbed his jacket off the back of the chair and walked out of his cubicle.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" Gibbs yelled at him.

"Someplace far away from here," he said.  He didn't wait for the elevator, just slammed through the stairwell door and raced down as fast as he could, feeling both freer than he'd ever felt, and full of fear like a junkie already knowing he was out of drugs and had just lost his supplier.

Tony heard the door slam open above him, and Gibbs yelling, "DiNozzo!" but Tony kept running.

* * *

Tony felt like he was in one of his movies, breaking out of prison or on the run from the KGB.  He felt an urgent need to go to ground.  He had no idea what he'd do then, but he did know that slowing down and letting Gibbs catch up to him was a bad idea.  He was like an alcoholic who'd managed to turn down one beer, but knew he'd succumb if he was offered another.  All it would take was a few words from the man to have Tony crawling back into the bottle.

He sprinted for his car, and took his first deep breath when he pulled out of the parking lot, no sign of Gibbs behind him.  He didn't know why he even thought Gibbs would come after him, but Tony still felt like he was being pursued.  Once he got home, he locked the door and put on the chain, something he hadn't done since he'd moved in.

Even as he knew he was being temporarily insane, the adrenalin pumping through his body dictating his actions more than common sense, he dragged a heavy chair to rest in front of the door.  It made him recall one night when he was nine, left with the help, as he often was, and the new chauffeur had had a little too much to drink.  The guy had creeped Tony out sober; drunk with a leer in his eye, he terrified him.  Adela, the maid, had whispered to Tony to lock himself in his room and not let anyone in.

Tony had done as he was told, doing his best not to cry when the guy started pounding on his door.  At the time, Tony wasn't clear on what the man wanted, but now, looking back, he could guess.  Tony had finally fallen asleep on the floor of the closet, and when he'd woken up the man was gone, never to be seen again.

As he stared at his door, almost waiting for the pounding to begin, Tony began to suspect that he really was going crazy.  Gibbs had driven him mad; there was no other explanation.  A second later, Tony snickered.  Okay, that was a bit dramatic.  Maybe.  He still stood there looking at the door.  Did he really expect Gibbs to follow him?   Why would he?  If he wanted Tony gone, he just got his wish.  And if he wanted Tony not to quit, coming over here and yelling at him wasn't the answer.  And Gibbs would yell.  Tony had no doubt about that.

He heard a car squeal into the parking lot, and his heart, which was already racing, began to jackhammer in his chest.  "Jesus," Tony said, as he put his hand over his heart.  Maybe he'd have a heart attack, and then he wouldn't have to worry about any of this.

Someone was running now.

"Shit," Tony said. 

The pounding started.  "Tony," Gibbs yelled.  "Open the damn door."

Tony stood there, like a deer in headlights, thinking he made the right call leaving NCIS if he was this close to the edge.  He was just burned out, he rationalized.  There was a reason he left every job after two years; everyone needed a break now and then.  And working someplace where you got smacked on the back of the head so often your head hurt was wrong.  So what if Gibbs was there.  So what if Gibbs was right outside his fucking door.  Tony needed to stay firm.  Time to move on. 

"Tony," Gibbs hollered, his fists banging on the door.

Someone was going to call the cops.  Tony snickered.  He'd like to see Gibbs talk his way out of that.  He wondered if this was why all his ex-wives ended up fighting back with such grand gestures.  Because he pushed, and pushed, and pushed, until you snapped and bam, you're reaching for the golf clubs.

It was quiet all of a sudden, which had Tony taking another step back and thinking about the safety of a closet.  Then the door swung open a couple of inches, hitting both the chain and the heavy armchair.  "What the hell," Gibbs snarled.  Then he looked up, and through the three-inch crack, saw Tony.

Tony had no idea what he looked like, but Gibbs shut his mouth, his eyes opened wide, and he put up a hand, like in an old time Indian movie, as if to say 'how'.

"Let me in," Gibbs said softly.

Tony shook his head, taking a step back until there was a wall behind him.

"Tony," Gibbs said, calmly, gently.  "Just open the door."

"I don't think so, Boss," Tony managed to say.  "I like that I’m in here and you're out there."  Tony just had to get through tonight, and then he'd start his cold turkey program on how to break his addiction to Gibbs, which would be much easier with Gibbs on the other side of his door.

"Tony," Gibbs said.  "Come on.  We can't talk like this."

Tony ran through his options, wishing he had a back door. 

There was a loud crash, and Tony gaped as Gibbs shoved the door open, breaking off the chain and pushing the chair far enough in that he could enter.  He shut the door behind him, moved the chair close to where it usually was, and stood there staring at Tony.

"Hey, boss," Tony said.  He found himself sliding down the wall to sit on the floor.

Gibbs stood there, gazing down at Tony.  "Comfortable?"

"No, not really," Tony said.  "But I don't think I could fit in any of my closets."

"Is that supposed to make sense?"

Tony thought about telling Gibbs about his nine year old almost run-in with the crazy chauffeur, but decided it wasn't worth it.  He made himself get up and perched on the edge of the couch.  It didn't look like Gibbs was planning on leaving anytime soon.

"Can I come in?" Gibbs asked.

Tony snorted.  "I kind of thought the lock, the chain, and the chair, were a pretty clear message."

"That was for me?" Gibbs asked, looking genuinely startled.

"Sort of," Tony said.  "See, I was nine, and…" he shook his head.  "Never mind.  What do you want, Boss?  Or I guess you're not that anymore, are you?"  That question made Tony want to cry.  No more Gibbs.  Be brave, little toaster, he told himself.

"You can't quit," Gibbs said. 

Surrendering to the inevitable, something he'd often done when dealing with Gibbs, Tony said, "Have a seat."  He pointed at the chair across the room.  "Over there."

Gibbs, naturally, ignored him, and moved to sit on the other end of the couch.  "What's going on?"

"I quit," Tony said.  "I can't do this anymore."

"Do what?"

"Work for you."

"Why?"

"Why?" Tony choked out on a manic laugh.

"Yeah, DiNozzo, why?"

"Because you're an asshole, Boss," Tony said, surprised at having to explain these facts to Gibbs when he prided himself on being at the top of the asshole class.

"I've always been an asshole," Gibbs countered.  "Why now?  We've worked together fine for years."

Tony considered the man that he was obsessed with.  He was handsome, no doubt.  Was still in good shape considering how much older than Tony he was.  His eyes were a stunning blue.  His smile, while scarce, when it appeared, changed his entire appearance, misleadingly, to a friendly, approachable, man.  "Were you ever nice?" Tony asked.  "I mean back with Shannon and Kelly, were you nice then?"

Gibbs glared at him.  "That's none of your business."

"Right," Tony said.  "Okay.  You can leave now.  I'll e-mail you my official resignation and send you a bill for the door repair."  He was starting to feel like himself again.  An obsessed adult, yes, but an adult who could speak up for himself.

Gibbs sighed.  "Yes," he finally said.

"Yes, what?" Tony asked.  Yes, he was accepting Tony's resignation?  Yes, he'd pay for the door repair?

"Yes, I was nice.  Nicer," he qualified.

Tony was amazed that Gibbs had volunteered that information, and he couldn't for the life of him figure out why he had. 

"I don't want you to quit," Gibbs said, quietly.  "Why don't you take a few days off and come back on Monday?"

"Why?"

It was Gibbs' turn to ask for clarification, "Why what?"

"Why do you want me to come back?" Tony asked, sincerely perplexed.  "You don't even like me."

Gibbs blinked at him.  "What?"

"You heard me."

"I like you fine," Gibbs said.

Tony studied Gibbs, letting the phrase 'I like you fine' roll around his mind.  This was Gibbs liking him fine?  It was a good thing, then, that Gibbs liked him at all.  If he actually did.  This could all be a ploy to get him to come back.  Even if Gibbs didn't like him, Tony had been his senior field agent for a long time, and McGee, for all the fact that he had grown tremendously, wasn't ready.  Ziva still had no idea how to play nice with people she couldn't stomach, so she couldn't do it even if she wasn’t a Mossad agent.  Gibbs would have to take someone on who wasn't ready or train someone new.  That might make Gibbs willing to stick with Tony even if he wasn't crazy about him.  "McGee could probably do it," Tony said.

"Do what?"

"Be your senior field agent.  He's still a little wet behind the ears, but it wouldn't take you that long to whip him into shape."

"I don't want McGee as my senior field agent," Gibbs said slowly.  "I'm satisfied with the senior field agent I have now."

Satisfied.  Tony had given his life's blood, sometimes literally, to Gibbs, for eight years, and Gibbs was satisfied.  Awesome.  "Fucking satisfied?" he said to Gibbs, suddenly furious.

"It's not my job to feed your ego, DiNozzo," Gibbs said.

"Feed my ego?" Tony said, incredulous.  He stared at Gibbs, wondering how he could possibly explain any of this to Gibbs without coming across as pathetic and certifiable.  In fact, Tony thought, there was no point.  "I mean it.  I quit.  I won't be back tomorrow or Monday.  If they'll let me in, I'll come in over the weekend and finish up any outstanding reports and get my stuff."

"I can't be nice to you," Gibbs protested.  "I can't treat you differently than I treat everyone else."

"But you do treat me differently," Tony said.  "You treat me like shit most of the time, and I can't handle it anymore.  And if that makes me pitiful or whatever, well, too fucking bad.  The back of my head hurts, Boss." 

"If you didn't fuck off all the time," Gibbs growled, "I wouldn't have to smack you."

"If you'd fucking pay any attention to me," Tony yelled, "I wouldn't fuck off all the time." 

"I pay attention to you all the time," Gibbs snapped back.

"Right," Tony said scathingly.  "By smacking me and threatening to shove your boot up my ass, telling me to shut up, leaving me out of the loop, or giving me all the shit chores to do.  Is that how you pay attention to me?"

"If you weren't acting inappropriately all the time, making sexual comments, flirting with anything on two legs, harassing your team mates, and wasting more time than you spend on the case, then I wouldn't have to do any of that," Gibbs spoke even louder, leaning toward him.

"Then why the hell do you want me to work for you?" Tony demanded.  "If I'm such a fuck up, you should be glad I'm quitting."

"Because in between you fucking up, you're the best god damn agent I've ever worked with," Gibbs hollered.

Tony shut his mouth.  That was unexpected.  "Really?"

"Why don't you know that?" Gibbs asked, frustrated.  "Why do you need me to constantly tell you that you're good?  You're like some puppy looking for a handout."

"Because I'm fucked up, in case you didn't notice," Tony said, hands out to his side, as if showing himself off as exhibit A.  "I've had a life-time's worth of therapists tell me that."

"Maybe it's time you grew up," Gibbs suggested acidly.

"Right," Tony said.  "This from the man who has managed the stress of his life by becoming the biggest bastard this side of the Mississippi."

"Only this side?" Gibbs snarled.  "And we're not talking about me."

"Oh, yes, we are," Tony said.  "Because this conversation is about you and me, not just me.  I know I'm fucked up, but you're fucked up, too.  And hanging around with your fuckedupness is like pouring acid on my fuckedupness."

"So now I'm supposed to be your therapist as well as your boss?" Gibbs bit out.  "I don't have time to make sure I'm not hurting your feelings."

"Yeah, no shit," Tony said.  Suddenly exhausted, he leaned back on the couch.  "Really, why don't you leave?"

"Because we haven't settled anything," Gibbs said stubbornly.

"Don't you have a case you're working on?"

"It's a suicide," Gibbs said.  "Ziva and McGee can wrap it up."

"I just can't do it anymore," Tony said again.

"Don't you need this job?" Gibbs asked.

"What do you mean?"

"To pay your bills?  Those clothes of yours don't come cheap."

"I've got enough money to get by on."

"You'll have to work eventually," Gibbs said.

Tony shrugged.  "I can get a job.  That's the last thing I'm worried about."  Truth to tell, he had plenty of money to get by on.  He'd barely touched the trust fund from his mom.  It wouldn't keep him flush forever, but he could go several years without working.

"Talk to me, Tony, god damn it," Gibbs barked out.

Tony stood, fists clenched.  "You don't get to break into my house and order me to god damn talk to you.  Get the fuck out."

Gibbs put a hand up again. 

Tony heard the unspoken 'Tony, stay'.

Gibbs' brow furrowed, and he stared at Tony as if it was only a matter of time before he had Tony all figured out.

It gave Tony a minute to pull it together, to start feeling humiliated that he'd shown such weakness in front of Gibbs, and furious that Gibbs had forced his way in so he'd seen it.  "I mean it, Gibbs.  Get out of my house.  I'm giving you ten seconds to head for the door."

"I'm not going anywhere until you say something that makes some sense," Gibbs said firmly.  "I still don't know why the hell you want to quit."

"And I don't have to explain it to you.  I can quit if I want, and I do.  You've got five seconds."

Not surprisingly, Gibbs didn't move.

Tony stood up.  "Time's up."  He moved to the door and held it open, taking a second to see that Gibbs hadn't done too much damage.  Tony might be able to repair it himself.

"Tony," Gibbs protested.

Softly, but deadly serious, Tony said, "Get out of my house.  I'm not asking again."

Clearly frustrated, lips shut tightly, Gibbs stood.  "We're not done," Gibbs said as he headed to the door.

Tony moved out of his way.  "Yes, we are."

"No, we're not," Gibbs said in his most stubborn voice.  "I'm putting you in for a vacation.  We are not done talking."  He was standing in the doorway now.

Tony was done talking and he started swinging the door shut.  Gibbs had to take a step back or get his feet scraped. 

"Boss," Tony said.

"Yes?" Gibbs said, his eyes attentively on Tony's.

"Break into my house again, and I'm calling the cops."  Tony shut the door the rest of the way and threw the deadbolt, not sure why he hadn't thrown it before.  Not that he'd been entirely rational at the time.  He was tempted to put the chair back in front of the door, but he knew Gibbs was still standing there, and he'd hear the chair being dragged.  Tony wished he had a big, mean dog that could stand there and growl.  "Sic 'em, Rover," he said softly under his breath.

"What was that?" Gibbs yelled through the door.

"Unbelievable," Tony muttered.  He could only wish to get this much attention when he wanted it.  "Go away," he said loudly.  He turned the TV on loud enough to drown out anything Gibbs might try to say through the door, and he went to take a shower, feeling a tremendous need to wash the day off of him.  Then, it might be a Jack Daniel's kind of night.  There'd be plenty of time tomorrow to figure out how to survive sans Gibbs.

* * *

**Friday 7 am:**

The next morning, Gibbs wondered if the dark storm cloud surrounding him was visible to anyone else.  When he got on the elevator and everyone else got off, he guessed it was.

He wanted to punch something.  Someone.  Gibbs knew Tony had issues.  You'd have to be blind not to know that, but Tony had been crazy last night.  There was no other excuse for Gibbs finding himself being pushed out of Tony's apartment, threats of calling the cops ringing in his ears. 

He hadn't slept at all, running their conversation over and over in his head, trying to figure out what the hell was going on.  How had he missed it?  That was the question Gibbs kept asking.  He'd never met anyone as resilient as Tony.  He took everything anyone threw at him, and kept on ticking. 

When had it shifted so badly?  And how had he missed it?  Gibbs meant it when he said that once he got working on a case, he didn't care about anything but the case, but it didn't excuse missing an agent reaching his breaking point.  Whatever had been driving Tony to quit, and all his comments last night, hadn't been triggered by one event.  That was a large build up of crap, and Gibbs should have seen it coming a long time ago.

Gibbs stormed into the bullpen, deriving no satisfaction when Ziva and McGee actually cringed in response.  He threw his jacket over the back of his chair, slammed his chair in under his desk, and stalked off.

"Did Tony really quit?" he heard McGee ask behind him, sounding pretty unhappy about it. 

And so he should be, Gibbs snarled to himself.  They thought things were rough with Tony around?  They had no idea.

"Gibbs," Abby began, seeing him in the hallway.

"Not now, Abs," Gibbs snapped out.  He'd rather push her away than take his anger and frustration out on her.  He was in no mood to be pleasant.

That must have communicated itself loud and clear because Abby literally plastered herself against the wall as if to get out of the way of an armored tank.

If Gibbs had been in the mood, it might have made him smile.  He strode into the morgue, glad to see Ducky was alone.  "Am I that much of a bastard?" he snapped.

Ducky looked up in surprise.  "Hello, Jethro," he said.

"Just answer the question," Gibbs demanded.

"A somewhat ironic tone to take when asking such a question," Ducky said with a small smile.  "May I ask what is prompting your query?"

"Tony quit, and he told me it was because I was an asshole," Gibbs blurted out.

"Ah," Ducky said, walking to one of the wheeled stools in the room, and sitting down.  "Is he serious, do you think?"

"He threatened to call the cops on me if I bothered him again," Gibbs said, suddenly exhausted, and burdened with an abrupt and inexpressible sadness.  "Ducky."  He didn't know what he wanted from his older friend, but he knew this was the only place he'd find the honesty he needed.

"You know that boy would do anything for you, don't you?" Ducky asked gently.

"Except work with me," Gibbs pointed out.  "What happened?  How did I miss this?" 

"You've missed it for a very long time," Ducky chided him.

"Missed what?" Gibbs said, exasperated.

"How much you mean to him."

"He has a funny way of showing it," Gibbs said, thinking of chain locks, and a damn chair placed in front of the door to keep him out.  Him!  Somehow, Gibbs had always counted on Tony being the one, when push came to shove, that would be standing at his side.  That was, Gibbs thought to himself with a discouraged epiphany, part of what the sadness was about. 

It sank in after a while that Ducky wasn't saying anything.

Gibbs lifted his eyes to his old friend.  "What?"

"I owe you an apology, Jethro."

"For what?"

"That I didn't bring attention to your behavior in time to stop this from happening.  I suppose I was reluctant to put myself in the line of fire, though it shames me to say it."  He smiled sadly.  "Tony seems so resilient all the time, doesn't he?  Someone you can push and push and push against, and he'll stay standing, like a solid oak tree."

"With tinsel and mistletoe all over it," Gibbs added, even if he found Ducky's description apt.  "I'm guessing from your apology that the answer to my question is yes.  That I am that big of an asshole?"

"To Tony you more often than not show your more surly side," Ducky said.  "You weren't always that way, but you've changed in your behavior toward him slowly over the last couple of years.  There are occasional times when you two seem as close as ever, but the next moment there seems to be a tension between you, a literal divide, as it were."

"When did it happen?"

"I'm not sure, exactly.  Perhaps when you came back from Mexico and took the team back.  He'd done a fine job in your absence, and perhaps it was difficult for him to have to work under you again.  Perhaps it was the undercover work the director had him doing.  I'm not sure if he started it, or you did, but as neither of you are particularly adept at communication, I suspect that in time it was both of you, responding negatively to the other, until, well, until now."

"I suck at communicating," Gibbs agreed wearily.  Then, more defensively, he said, "And I shouldn't have to worry about that with one of my employees.  You don't see Ziva or McGee bitching about how I don't pay attention to them.  They're professionals."  Damn it all to hell, he thought to himself.

"If a ranch hand treated a high-strung racehorse the same way he treated the draft horses," Ducky said, "I suspect he'd be fired."

"I don't have time for high-strung racehorses," Gibbs snapped out.

"Then perhaps it is best that Tony has chosen not to work here anymore," Ducky said with some bite.  "We are not all the same.  If you treated Abby the way you treated Tony on some of your less than stellar days, I suspect she'd have given her notice as well."

"I would never treat Abby--" Gibbs stopped himself.  "Shit."  He let out a sigh.

"To finish my analogy," Ducky said, "it might be easier on the ranch hand if all he had to care for were draft horses, but then he'd lose the chance to watch his racehorse run and win the Kentucky Derby."

"Ziva and Tim are hardly plodding draft horses."

"No, that's true, but there is something special about Tony.  Much like there is something special about Abby.  When he goes racing around the track, hooves thundering, tail and mane flying, muscles bunching and releasing--"

"Are we still talking about DiNozzo?" Gibbs interrupted him.

"Ah, I do love a good horse race," Ducky said wistfully.

There were words in Gibbs' mouth that wanted to come out.  Words like: he didn't want to do this without Tony, or how was he supposed to get through the day without Tony's stupid jokes?  He bit down on his lips hard.  Instead he asked, "Will you talk to him?"  He felt the coward for asking but, after last night, he needed an advance guard to get to Tony. 

Ducky nodded.  "I will.  In fact, I'll call him as soon as I finish up with Lieutenant Abrahms, here."  He gestured toward the body lying on one of the autopsy tables.  "Jethro."

"What?"

"My words may make no difference.  He may not be willing to come back to the same situation he left."

For a moment Gibbs thought it might be easier to let DiNozzo go.  Ducky’s analogy was remarkably on target, and in many ways Tony was a high-strung race horse.  Gibbs expended more energy on him than everyone else on the team combined.  Lately, Gibbs found he didn't have the energy he once had.  Whether it was due to Tony, or to Gibbs growing older, or to the job growing stale, Gibbs didn't know.

He tried to think of a message he could pass along to Tony through Ducky, but everything sounded trite, or insipid, or too superficial, and he sure as hell wasn't going to send along a message better said to Tony's face, if said at all.

"Is there something you'd like me to tell him?" Ducky asked kindly, his eyes altogether too shrewd, and Gibbs wished he could get a peek inside his friend's head in hopes of figuring out what was going on in his own.

Gibbs shook his head. 

Ducky looked momentarily disappointed, but then he covered it well.  "I'll let you know how it goes.  Are you going to tell the others?"

"As far as anyone knows, Tony's on vacation."  Tony had thrown that back in his face, but Gibbs could get away with it for a few days.  For one long, paralyzing, moment, he imagined coming into this place, day after day, without having Tony to look forward to.  "Tell him I want him back," he blurted out.  "Ask him what I need to do."

That got an approving look.  "I'll do my best."

That was all Gibbs could ask.  He turned smartly, and headed back up to the bullpen.

* * *

**Smallville:**

**Friday 7:30 am:**

It had been three days since Lex had heard from Clark, and he wasn't sure what to think about that.  He'd called the phone number on Clark's new cell, but all he kept getting was a message saying the party he was trying to reach was not available.

He dialed Clark's home number, hoping to reach him before he left for school, his finger hovering over the send button.  Finally, saying, "Fuck it," he pushed the button.

"Kent residence," came Martha Kent's voice.

Thankful it was Clark's mom and not his dad, he said, "Mrs. Kent, it's Lex Luthor.  I was wondering if Clark was around." 

"No, Lex, he's not," she said.  There was a small hitch in her voice.

"Give me that phone," Jonathan Kent said loudly enough for Lex to hear.  "I told you not to call here," he snapped into the phone.  "Clark doesn't want to speak with you.  He's done.  We're done."

"Jonathan," cried Martha in the background.

"Don't call this number again."  The phone disconnected.

Lex stared at his phone, wondering what had happened.  Had someone else shown up sniffing around, someone Jonathan Kent had just assumed Lex was responsible for?  Surely Clark would have called to let him defend himself.  He almost wished he hadn't had that conversation with Clark the other day.  It had made him feel that they could stay friends, that their friendship was as important to Clark as it was to him.  It had gotten his hopes up. 

He'd give Clark until the end of the week; surely there was a reason Clark hadn't called.  Lex shook his head at his inability to just let Clark go.  There was no way this was going to end up with him getting what he wanted.

Forcing himself back to his overloaded desk, he shuffled through the mail.  There was a plain white envelope in the pile, made of heavy vellum.  It was addressed to him with no return address.  Lex didn’t need to open it; he already knew what it was.  It was an invitation to a very private auction that only a select few received. 

He'd obtained one of his cars through the auction, as well as Alexander's breast plate.  Right before he'd been banished to Smallville, he'd bid and won a night with two Geishas.  It had been a remarkable night; the memories still strong enough to stir his blood.  It had almost made him consider moving to Japan.

He didn't always win the items he wanted; it was a rich man's hobby, sometimes too rich for his blood.  At least it had been when all he had to his name was LexCorp.  Now he suspected there was little he couldn't afford, and he was tempted to attend.  It would be a welcome distraction from Clark. 

He slit the envelope open and pulled out the invitation.  He frowned when he saw a very obscure description of what was being auctioned off.  That usually meant it wasn't exactly legal.  Either the article they were selling had no provenance, usually because it had been illegally obtained, something that didn't bother Lex unduly, or they were auctioning someone who wasn't willing, something that did bother Lex. 

This was the part of the world he lived in that Jonathan Kent had reason to hate.  Money and power were heady bedfellows and, over time, people could be twisted by them and lose part of their humanity.  Lex had been on that path himself before he'd run a young farm boy off the road.

He read the description again, words jumping out at him.  One of a kind, never before seen, one time only.  Whatever it was, Lex had no doubt it would measure up.  Only the best was put on the block by this particular auctioneer.

When the invitations had first started coming to Lex, they'd been to sell legitimate objects: art with all provenances in place, or historical artifacts with certificates of authenticity.  Once Lex had participated several times and proven himself discreet, he'd been invited to the next inner circle.  Over time, questionnaires were sent to inquire as to exactly what sort of items Lex might specifically be interested in buying.  The questionnaire made it clear that any fantasy Lex's dark heart desired could be made into reality over time.  He suspected his list paled in comparison to the lists of some. 

He seldom went when the description was so vague.  He'd gone twice.  Once he'd bought a piece of art that he had locked up in a room along with anything else that curious eyes had no business seeing.  The other time he'd had to leave, sickened at the sight of the young Indian girl bound and gagged.

Lex had kept his mouth shut.  It was subtle, but the threats were clear, and he had no wish to have his life ended prematurely.  The rules, while never spoken out loud were clear: speak and die.  Go after something you did not win and die.  Reveal the location of the auction and die.  Reveal the identity of anyone else you recognized at the auction and die. 

He slid the invitation back into the envelope and threw it in the bin to be shredded.

* * *

**NCIS Headquarters**

**Friday 9 am** :

Two hours later, sick of seeing Ziva and McGee exchange worried looks, Gibbs headed back downstairs.

"Well?" he asked Ducky.

When Ducky took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes, Gibbs knew in his gut he wasn't going to like what he was about to hear. 

"I'm afraid he's gone."

"What?  What does that mean?  Gone where?  When will he be back?"

"He wasn't particularly forthcoming.  I gave him your message, and all he said was that he was done, and he was heading out of town to visit his cousin, Martha."

"Martha?  Since when does he have a cousin Martha?" Gibbs asked indignantly.  "Where does she live?"  He was ignoring Tony's comment about being done.  Tony might think that, but Gibbs wasn't going to accept it.

"He wouldn't say, Jethro.  I suspect he thought you might try to follow him there.  He simply said he wasn't sure when he'd be back."  Ducky opened his mouth to say something else, but then he shut it.

"What?"

Ducky sighed.  "He said it had been a pleasure working with me."  His lips tightened.  "I do believe he means not to come back."

That was unacceptable.  Furious, he stalked to Abby's lab.  "I need you to find someone for me," he snapped out.

"I'm your girl," she said, a little cautiously.  "Who is it?"

"Tony."

"Our Tony?"

"Yes.  And find his cousin Martha."

"His cousin Martha."

"Are you a parrot all of a sudden?"

Abby glared at him.  "Does Martha have a last name?"

"I'm sure she does, but I don't know it."

"Do you know where she lives?"

"No."

Abby considered him.  "Gibbs."

"Just do your best."

"Did he really quit?"

"He's taking a vacation," Gibbs said, wincing at how unbelievable he'd made that sound. 

"Didn't you go over there last night to try to change his mind?" 

In retrospect, Gibbs probably should have sent Abby over.  "Yes."

She slumped down into a chair.  "How are we going to do this without him?  He's like the only really fun thing here."

"Just find him, Abs."

"Right," she said.  "And his cousin Martha.  Do we know if she lives in the United States?"

"He's going to visit her.  Find him, you'll find her."

She stood, looking motivated.  "Right.  I'm on your six, Gibbs."  Then, her face wilting, she added, "This place is gonna suck without him."

Gibbs couldn't agree more and suspected it was all over his face.  Deciding there was nothing more to be accomplished by hanging around, he headed, once more, back to the bullpen.

* * *

**Smallville**

**Friday 11:30 pm:**

Tony knew he should have called first, but he'd had to get out of DC before Gibbs was pounding on his door again.  He appreciated Ducky calling, had actually been glad to have the opportunity to tell him what a pleasure it had been to work with him, but he didn't want to talk to anyone else.  They’d all know soon enough.  Tony had already turned his badge in, and right before he left his apartment, he'd e-mailed his resignation to Vance.   

It was just before noon when he pulled into the driveway toward the yellow farmhouse, hoping he wasn't coming at a bad time.  There hadn't really been time to call; the phone call with Ducky had almost made him late for his flight. 

The last time he'd spoken to Martha had been a year ago, and the last time he'd been here, Clark had been twelve and freakishly strong.  He'd almost broken Tony's fingers with a handshake.  Martha had sent pictures not that long ago, and Clark was taller than Tony now, and gorgeous.

Not that Tony was looking.  Jeez, the kid was his nephew in an honorary way.  But there was no denying the fact that he was a good-looking kid.

He got out of his car and walked up the steps, knocking on the door.

Martha answered the door, and one look at her face told Tony that something bad was going on.  "What is it?" he asked her tear-stained face.  "What's happened?"

"Clark's missing," she said on a sob.  She moved against him, crying for real now, and Tony's arms went around her, pulling her close.  He looked up to see Jonathan standing in the kitchen, looking as helpless as Tony had ever seen him.  Usually Jonathan was the most grounded and capable person Tony had ever met.  He was sort of like Gibbs that way.  Tony pushed the thought of Gibbs away; now was not the time.

"When?" he asked Jonathan.

"Four days now.  He never showed up for school on Monday.  We didn't even think anything was wrong until late Monday night."

"He and Jonathan had a fight," Martha explained in a shaky voice, pulling back from Tony.  "We thought Clark was with his friends, avoiding coming home.  But then he didn't call, and didn't come home at all, and we called the school, and--" She didn't finish, her fingers pressed against her trembling lips.  "He isn't like this.  He wouldn't just disappear."

"Do you have any idea where he is?  Have you called the cops?"

Martha and Jonathan exchanged troubled looks.  Finally, Martha said, "No."

"Why not?" Tony asked, astonished, even angry.  "He's still only sixteen; they would have started to look for him as soon as you called.  Why haven't you?"

Another look passed between them.

"What's going on?" Tony demanded.  "What aren't you telling me?"

It was Martha who made the decision, even though Tony could tell Jonathan wasn't happy about it.  She took Tony's arm and dragged him back outside to the storm cellar. 

Wordlessly they climbed down the stairs, Martha pulling the string to turn on the single light bulb hanging from the ceiling.  Tony looked around to see what the great mystery was, but all he saw was an empty room. 

"Oh, my God," Martha cried, a frantic look on her face.  "Jonathan!" she called.  "It's gone.  Oh, my God."

Jonathan came pounding down the stairs.  "What do you mean?"  He saw the same empty room Tony was looking at.  "Shit.  Oh, shit.  Martha."

"Someone knows, and they have Clark," she cried, this time burying her face against Jonathan's chest.

"What do they know, and who has Clark?  And what's gone?"

"Clark's spaceship," Martha said.

Tony blinked at her.  "What?"

"Martha," Jonathan said warningly.

"Jonathan.  We need his help.  And he can't help us if he doesn't know what's going on."  She stumbled up the steps, Jonathan's hands at her waist to keep her steady.

Tony kept turning the word spaceship over and over again in his mind, trying to see if it could mean anything besides the obvious.  Maybe it was something Clark built, and maybe it was so advanced the CIA, or the NSA, or Homeland Security decided they needed to put Clark under wraps.  As absurd as that theory sounded, it made more sense than Clark actually having a spaceship.  From space.

"Clark's not from this world," Martha blurted out, once they were back in the kitchen.  "I know that seems inconceivable, but we found him right after a meteor shower, along with a spaceship.  We don't know where he's from, but he's not human.  He can run really fast, and he's really, really strong."

Tony found himself flexing his right hand, the one Clark had almost pulverized.  He really wanted to laugh and not believe a word Martha was saying, but he did.  It was the way she was talking, and the tears on her face, and the fact that while Martha was one of the kindest people Tony had ever known, she wasn't much of a jokester.

"And you think someone found out about him?" Tony asked.

"We know someone did," Jonathan said grimly.  "I should have killed that asshole when he was here, thrown him into the furnace along with his camera."  His eyes grew flintier.  "And if Lex Luthor were here right now, I'd put a bullet through his head."

"Lex would help us, Jonathan," Martha said, with the weary tone of someone who had been having the same argument for a long time. 

"He's the reason Clark's been taken.  If Lex hadn't been nosing around, Nixon wouldn't have ever even noticed Clark."

"All I want is Clark back.  And I know you're angry, and I understand why you think Lex is to blame, but Lex would never do anything to hurt Clark."

"No."

"I'm not asking," Martha said defiantly.  "Not any more.  It's been too long.  We couldn’t go to the police, but we can go to Lex.  He has the money and resources to help us find him."  She turned to Tony, pleading. "You'll go with me, right?  To talk to Lex?"

Tony scrunched his face up in confusion.  "Are we talking about Lex Luthor, billionaire?"

Martha nodded, scurrying around the kitchen, shutting appliances off, ignoring Jonathan's black looks.

"Why exactly are we talking about Lex Luthor, billionaire?"  Somehow he couldn't imagine a connection between that kind of money and the Kents.

"He's Clark's best friend."

Tony felt like he'd missed five years of a soap opera.  "So, Clark's an alien, with a spaceship, and a billionaire is his best friend.  Have I got that right?"

"Let's go," Martha said, tugging on Tony's sleeve.

"Martha," Jonathan tried once more.

She stopped and glared at him.  "I should have gone to see Lex as soon as we knew he was gone.  If you'd stop being so hateful for one minute, you'd know I was right.  We need help."  She moved to Jonathan, putting her hands on his chest.  "Jonathan.  I can't not do something that might help."

"You ask Lex for a favor," Jonathan warned, "and it will be his father all over again.  He'll make us pay a thousand times over in blood."

"And I'll happily pay," she said, "if it gets me Clark back."  She grabbed her purse and clutched at Tony's arm again.  "Let's go."

Tony shot Jonathan a look, but Martha was his family, so he followed Martha outside, watching as she got into the passenger side of his rental.  As they drove away, he glanced in the rearview mirror and saw Jonathan standing on the porch looking equal parts angry, stubborn, and desolate.

* * *

**Metropolis**

**Friday 2:30 pm:**

"Excuse me?" Lex said to his secretary, Julia.

"A Martha Kent and Tony DiNozzo are here to see you."

Lex had no idea who Tony DiNozzo was, but he certainly knew who the other unexpected visitor was, and he couldn't imagine why she was dropping by unannounced.  Had she discovered the cell phone he'd sent Clark?  Even so, this seemed excessive to yell at him in person.  "Show them in."  Despite the fact that this conversation would no doubt be painful, he was too curious to turn his visitors away.

One look at Martha had Lex on his feet.  "What is it?  What's wrong?"  He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and led her to the couch.  "Can I get you something?  Tea?  Something stronger?"

He let his eyes rest briefly on Tony DiNozzo, seeing a tall, very handsome, well-built man, but then his attention was back on Martha. 

"It's Clark," she choked out.

Lex's stomach lurched.  "What happened?" Please, he begged the capricious lords of the universe, not Clark.

"He's missing.  He's been gone since Monday."  She started to cry.  "I need your help."

"Since Monday?  I spoke to him Monday morning."

"He never made it to school.  Did he say anything?"

Lex thought she might feel better if Clark had announced to Lex that he was running away from home.  "No, in fact, he said he was heading for school when we finished speaking.  Have you called the police?"

"That would be me," Tony said.  He put out his hand.  "Tony DiNozzo.  I'm Martha's cousin."

"You're a police officer?" Lex asked, even as he shook Tony's hand.

"Sort of," Tony said with a wince.  "Up until yesterday I was an NCIS Special Agent, but I quit.  Sort of bad timing."

"Are you armed?"

He nodded.  "But I'm not licensed."

"I can take care of that."  Lex walked back to his desk and pushed a button.  When Julia responded, Lex asked for his head of security to join them.

"I wished you'd called me right away," Lex said with frustration.  "So much time has already gone by."  At Martha's heart-broken look, he instantly capitulated.  "I'm sorry.  To be perfectly honest, I'm surprised you came to see me at all.  But I'm glad you did."  He took her hands.  "I'll find him.  I promise."

Lex turned to Tony.  "He called me from a payphone Monday morning, but I don't know where.  Can you trace it?  Maybe we'll be lucky and there'll be some video surveillance of the area we can look at."

"Cell phone number?" Tony asked, hoping like hell that when he called Abby that Gibbs wasn't anywhere near the vicinity.  "And can I use your phone?"

Lex noticed the cell phone on Tony's belt, decided there was a reason Tony didn't want to use it, rattled off his number, gestured toward the desk giving permission, and then acknowledged his head of security who had just entered the room.  "Please obtain a license to carry for Tony DiNozzo immediately." 

Mark Hudson nodded, asked Tony for some ID, and when he had it in his hand, left.

Lex caught Tony's appreciative, and somewhat impressed, look.  Lex might have said something, except Tony was talking.  "Abby?"

Lex could hear some loud excited chatter through the phone.

"Abby, Abby, focus.  Gibbs isn't around, is he?  Good, write this number down."  He repeated Lex's number.  "Monday morning," he stopped and looked at Lex.

Lex opened his phone and scrolled through all the received calls.  "7:48 am."

Tony nodded, "7:48 am.  Someone called that number I just gave you.  Can you tell me where the caller was?  We think it was a payphone.  And hey, don't tell Gibbs."  There was some more chatter, and Tony pinched his nose and sighed.  "Abs, just run the number, would you?  It's important."  He stayed on the line, and this time it was Lex's turn to be impressed when less than a minute later, Tony was writing down an address.  "Thanks, Abs, you're the greatest, and I promise I’m not disappearing forever.  I’ll call you soon."

He read off the address to Martha.

"That's right on the edge of town," she said.  "Should we go look?  See if anything's there?"

"Yes," Lex said.  "I'll have the helicopter readied."  He called Julia again and made the request.  He got another impressed look from Tony.  If Lex weren't consumed with the need to find Clark, he might have been interested in pursuing Tony.  Of course, who Lex really wanted in his bed was Clark, but Clark was still sixteen, and men over the age of twenty-one went to jail for things like that. 

That was when he had the most horrible thought.  Too horrible to even think about, and all he wanted to do was dismiss it.  "Fuck," he said.

From Lex's desk, Tony looked up at him, a question in his eyes.  Martha was sitting back against the couch, eyes closed, looking twenty years older than the last time Lex had seen her.

Lex took a deep breath, needing to compose himself.  He walked back behind his desk and looked at the bin where he'd thrown the invitation, only to find it empty.  He closed his eyes and hit the intercom again, forcing himself to remain calm.  He found himself striding out of his office, the seconds it was taking Julia to respond much too long.

She looked up at him, surprised, her finger on the intercom button.

"When did you take the paper that needed shredding out of my office?"  Lex hadn't even noticed, but he'd spent most of the day in and out of meetings.

"Right before lunch," she said.

"I can't even begin to tell you how important this is, but I need it back.  I threw something in there that--" He couldn't imagine the consequences of not finding it.  That invitation was the only thing that would get him in the door.  There was no one to call to request a replacement.  Asking too many questions was a death sentence.  He thought of Roger Nixon.  Dead.  Roger Nixon who'd been sneaking around the Kent farm, perhaps amassing sufficient evidence to make Clark seem like a priceless treasure.  "Julia."

Despite the fact that he'd said so little, something on his face, or the tone of his voice, must have told her the seriousness of his request as she was already on the phone stopping any transportation of paper in the entire building, starting with the basement where the giant shredders were located.  "Nothing more," she ordered.  Glancing up at Lex, she said, "They've already shredded some of it."

Lex felt like throwing up.  If the invitation was gone, so was Clark.  He knew to the marrow of his bones that it was Clark being auctioned off to the highest bidder, and whoever won him would have the money and power to make sure that he never emerged from whatever cage they'd put him in.  He closed his eyes, fighting back the powerful urge to punch his fist through a wall.

* * *

Tony watched Lex race from the room and wondered what the hell was going on.  He glanced at Martha, only to find that she had finally succumbed to sleep, aided and abetted by Lex's comfortable, soft-as-butter, and no doubt sinfully expensive, leather couch.  She looked exhausted, and Tony suspected she hadn't slept for days.

Lex walked back in, and Tony saw fear on his face.  "What is it?" he asked softly, wanting Martha to get what sleep she could.  "What do you know?"  He stood, walking toward Lex.  "Talk to me.  Was Jonathan right to blame you for this?"

Lex closed his eyes.  They were bleak when he reopened them, and Tony saw the same desolation he'd seen in Clark's father's eyes.  "Did I set this all in motion?" Lex asked just as softly, his eyes briefly setting on Martha.  "Maybe.  Is the person who unknowingly sets off an avalanche responsible for all the death it causes?  I don't know.  What I do know is that I'll get him back.  But I need your help."  

"Anything," Tony said.  There was something else in Lex's eyes, something Tony saw in his own when he looked in a mirror and thought of Gibbs.  Love, need, maybe the same addiction that had kept him close to Gibbs for years.  Whatever it was, Tony trusted it.  Tony would have done anything for Gibbs.  Anything.  Up until yesterday. 

He followed Lex out of his office, and the two of them took the elevator straight down to the basement.  On the way, Lex said, "A year ago, my father banished me to Smallville.  I was on a one-way road to self-destruction, and I was driving too fast.  I hit a roll of baling wire, and drove right off a bridge, hitting, I thought, a young man on the way."

"Imagine my surprise," he continued, "when I found myself alive, having been rescued by this same young man, Clark Kent--if you haven't figured that out--the top of my car having been somehow torn off so Clark could pull me out and start CPR.  I wanted to understand why.  Clark denied everything, of course, said I didn’t hit him, but I wanted to understand why I was alive.  Why I didn't die in that crash.  How the roof got torn off.  I wanted a reason for being alive when everything in me knew I should be dead.  Maybe thought I deserved to die."

"So you hired an investigator," Tony guessed, not really blaming Lex.  It wasn't as if Lex could have known what secrets were there for the finding.

"So I hired an investigator," Lex agreed.  The doors opened to the basement and a long hallway, and Lex headed down it.  "Clark and I may be best friends, but he's never told me anything about himself.  I'm not sure what they're hiding, though I have my suspicions, but Clark and his parents have done nothing but lie to me since I met him.  If he'd trusted me, I could have protected him, but they told me nothing."  Lex's voice sounded bitter. 

Tony understood the pain of being left out of things long past the point when you should.  "The investigator found out things?" Tony asked.

"His name was Roger Nixon, and yes, he found out things," Lex agreed.  "Odd things.  Things that were leading him back to Clark, and when I realized that, I fired him.  I told him to leave it alone.  I thought I was persuasive."

Tony could make a guess as to just how persuasive Lex could be.  On the other hand, apparently it wasn't persuasive enough.  "He didn't stop."

"He didn't stop.  And now Roger Nixon is dead, along with several other men, Clark is missing, and--" he cut off when he entered a large room where there were several large bins filled with paper, and a huge shredder with bits of paper hanging off its teeth.  There were over a dozen people there ready to help.

"We're looking for something that feels like a wedding invitation," Lex said.  "Heavy paper, pearl white.  Just my name and address on the cover.  Ten thousand dollars to the person who finds it."

People dove in, literally.  The bins fit two or three people each, hands fumbling through paper.  Lex chose one and hoisted himself up and in.  Tony followed him.  "Why are you telling me all of this?"

"I don't know.  Maybe I'm hoping that there'll be one person in the Kent family tree who doesn't think I'm Satan's spawn."

"Clark doesn't feel that way, does he?"

It was amazing to watch the shift of expressions on Lex's face, how they softened when Tony mentioned his name.  "No.  No, he doesn't feel that way.  And I don't blame him for not telling me.  He was just doing what his family, his father, insisted on.  Jonathan Kent and my father had some unpleasant history."

Tony wanted to hear more, but he glanced down at all the paper.  "What is this thing we're looking for?" Tony asked.  Lex shot him a look that sent a trickle of dread down Tony's spine. 

"It's an invitation to an auction," Lex said slowly.  "By special invitation only.  People with money and questionable ethics only need attend."

Tony stared at Lex, bewildered at first by Lex's answer, but then his mind stuttered over the frightening implications of his words, especially given the information Martha had thrown at him earlier.  "Oh, fuck.  Clark?"

Nodding grimly, Lex thrust his hands down into the paper they were standing in.  "I don't know for sure, but too many things add up."

"And if you can't find it?"

"He's gone."

Lex's voice was so implacably sure that Tony had no choice but to believe him.  The next few minutes were tense, the room silent other than the sound of crinkled paper and a few whispers here and there.  Lex's face was growing grimmer, and his eyes more shadowed, as the minutes ticked by.

"I found it, I think!" a man yelled, holding it up.

Lex leapt out of the dumpster he was in, yanking it out of the man's hand.  The look of relief on Lex's face told Tony it was what Lex had been looking for. 

"Julia, write that man a check, and give everyone here two thousand dollar bonuses for helping."

"Yes, sir," Julia said.

"And that includes you," Lex said.

She grinned at him.

Lex strode out of the room and Tony trotted along side of him.  Lex was a couple inches shorter than him, but he could really move. 

Tony didn't like the look on Lex's face.  "This is good news, right?  We found it?"

Lex reopened the envelope to take another look at the invitation.  "Fuck.  It's tomorrow night."

"But that's good," Tony said.  "We go get him, and we're done."

"The only way we're getting him," Lex said tightly, "is if we win the auction."

"But you're rich, right?"

"Yes, I am, but most of my money is tied up in assets.  I don't exactly have a billion dollars in a savings account I can write out a check for."

"A billion dollars?"

Lex stopped and spun to look at Tony.  "What is he?  Tell me."

Tony shook his head.  "It's not my secret to tell."

"I need to know what I'm up against.  I need to know what kind of bidding war there will be.  If it's just that he's a gorgeous man, I can win that kind of bidding.  If it's because he's got some powers because of the meteor rocks, I might be able to pull that much cash together.  But if he's more.   If he's what I suspect.  Can you imagine what people would pay to have control over something like that?  I need to know."

With every word, Tony's stomach churned.  And he agreed with Lex; he did need to know.  Martha might never speak to him again, but Lex had to know.  "He's an alien.  They have his spaceship, too.  He came in it when he was just a kid."

"Fuck," Lex said, punching a wall.  He closed his eyes, his hands resting on the wall, the hand he'd used to punch it spotted with blood seeping from bruised knuckles.  "How will I ever…fuck.  An alien."  He turned to look at Tony.  "The people who come to this auction, they covet things.  Things that no one else has.  How the fuck am I going to come up with that kind of cash between now and then?"  He glanced at his watch.  "Today is almost over, and tomorrow is Saturday."

"You really think you're talking a billion dollars?"

"More.  See this mark?"  He held up the invitation.

Tony saw a small D.  "The D?"

"That tells me that the bidding starts at five hundred million."  Tony gaped at him.  When he looked like he might speak again, Lex put up his hand.  "Let me think for a minute."

Tony had to say it.  "Can't we break him out?  Once we know he's there, can't we go with enough manpower to take him with us?"

"No."

That was unhelpfully succinct.  "Why not?"

"He chooses his locations well.  He has all the surrounding property under surveillance."  Lex showed him a few numbers on the invitation.  "This is telling me the exact time I have to be at a prearranged meeting place that I will be told once I log into an encrypted site exactly one hour before I am expected to be there.  Once I arrive, I am transferred to an unmarked sedan, and then I am taken to the venue chosen for the night's entertainment.  I am let in a door and taken to a waiting room.  When it is time, I am taken to a soundproof, bulletproof room that I can see out of, but no one can see into, although it also is under surveillance.  My voice is camouflaged and we are given a number to use as identification for bidding.  The goods being auctioned are displayed below us on a stage we can all see but not get to.  If he suspects anything, he has a dozen escape routes to use, and Clark will be taken away to be re-auctioned on another night to a completely different group of interested bidders."

Tony stared at him, impressed despite the horrifying situation.  "So you don't know where it is?"

"Not until I arrive.  And before the sedan leaves, I am patted down and monitored for a wire and any tracing or recording equipment."

"Crap."  Tony didn't even think Gibbs could figure out how to crash this party.  Not that he didn't wish Gibbs was right there to help them brainstorm.  "Can you take a bodyguard?"

"Yes," Lex said.  "One, and he, or she, can be armed."

"Let me come with you."

"You do anything to get Clark hurt or taken away, and I'll kill you," Lex said calmly.

"Ditto," Tony said back.

"Just so we understand each other."

Tony grinned at him.

Lex let out a short breath of a laugh.  "I need to get some money."

"How are you going to do that?"

"See how fast I can sell everything I own in the next," he glanced at his watch, "twenty-four hours." 

Tony stared at Lex. 

"I'd give it all up to get Clark back," Lex snarled, as if he thought Tony didn't believe him.  “I can make money again."

"How can I help?"

"Keep Mrs. Kent busy and out of my way.  I don't want her to know what's going on."

"I can do that."  Tony put his hand on Lex's shoulder.  "And I don't think you're Satan spawn, and I don't think this was your fault, and I do think we're damn lucky to have you on our side."

Lex looked away for a moment, and he swallowed.  Then, looking back at Tony, he smiled wryly.  "Don't thank me yet.  Once word gets out that I'm liquefying all my assets, it will be like a garage sale."

"Then don't let it get out," Tony said.

Mark Hudson suddenly appeared and he handed Tony his ID back as well as a brand new license to carry, and a new ID proclaiming him as part of Lex Luthor's personal security staff.  "Wow," Tony said.  "That was fast."  Even Abby wasn't that fast.  When he looked up again, Hudson was gone.  He showed them to Lex.  "Now I have ID for tomorrow night."

"They'll check you as soon as I tell them you're coming, and they'll find out you were an NCIS agent up until yesterday.  That won't predispose them to trust you.  Come up with a good story."

"I will."  In this particular situation, ironically, the truth would do just fine.

They were back in the elevator, and Lex put in a keycard and hit the button for the second to top floor.  "You can take Mrs. Kent up to the penthouse," Lex suggested.  "She can't stay in my office."

"I'll take care of Martha," Tony said. 

Lex strode into his offices and threw out a list of names for Julia to contact to have them join Lex in the conference room.  "Oh, and get some food and drinks.  We won't be coming out for a while."  With that, he grabbed his laptop, stalked into the conference room, and shut the door.

Tony blinked.  The kid, and he was a kid, despite the fact that he had more aplomb than most anyone Tony had ever met, was a force of nature.  For some reason, he could totally understand why Clark, struggling with who he was, would latch onto Lex.  He just came across as someone who could fix anything.  Tony sure as hell hoped he could fix this.

* * *

**NCIS Headquarters**

**Friday 3:00 pm**

"What do you mean, Tony called?" Gibbs snapped at Abby.

"I wasn't supposed to tell you," she wailed.  "He asked me not to."

"You didn't tell me," Gibbs said.  "You told McGee.  I overheard.  Where is he?  What did he want?"

Abby let out a long beleaguered sigh.  "Gibbs."

"Now."

"He called me to trace a number made from a payphone.  I traced it to Smallville."

"He's in a place called Smallville?"

"All I know is that he left his car at Ronald Reagan, and got a ticket to Wichita.  I don't know if he went to Smallville, I just know that's where the call came from."

"But we know he's in Kansas."

"I know he flew into Kansas.  I'm still trying to track down his rental.  He didn't use his phone to call me, so I'm guessing he's doesn't want to be found."

"Show me the area."

Abby put up a map on the screen.  She pointed at a small dot at the east end of the state.  "That's Smallville.  I pulled up everyone by the name of Martha who lives in Smallville and came up with five.  None of them have the last name DiNozzo, and none of them, from what I could see, have any connection to Tony.  I don't know what else to do."

"Who was on the other end of the phone?"

Abby held up her finger, "Give me a minute."  Her fingers flew over the keyboard.  A minute later, she said, "That can't be right."

"Who is it?"

"Lex Luthor."

"The Lex Luthor?" Gibbs couldn't even begin to imagine what business Tony had with Lex Luthor.

Abby hit some more keys.  "Yup.  That Lex Luthor."  She let out a dreamy sigh.  "Now that's one sexy man.  And him and Tony?"  She fanned herself.

"What do you mean?" Gibbs asked sharply.

She opened her mouth to answer, then her eyes widened and she clamped down on her lips.  "Never mind," she mumbled through her closed lips.

"Abby."

"You have to pretend I didn't say that, Gibbs.  Tony will kill me."

Gibbs let the conversation replay in his head.  Clearly Abby thought she'd said something that was giving away Tony's secrets.  What had she said?  A jolt of something unpleasant shot through him.  "Tony and Lex Luthor?  Tony's gay?"

"You've seen him with women, boss.  He's ambi-sexual.  And if you say anything mean to him about this, I'll never forgive you."

The only mean thing Gibbs was going to say to Tony when he saw him next was why the fuck he hadn't told Gibbs he was ambi-sexual, to quote Abby.  Gibbs needed to know these things.  He might have actually carried through on a few of those fantasies about Tony he only pulled out during the worst nights when Gibbs couldn't stop his mind thinking about everything in his life he'd fucked up.

When he next looked up at the screen there was a picture of Lex Luthor up there.  Bald wasn't a look that turned Gibbs on, but there was something compelling about the man, and god damn it, he could see how attractive a pair he and Tony would be.  "I don't buy it."

"Buy what?"

"If Tony knew Lex Luthor, we'd know all about it."  Tony would never let the opportunity pass to crow about something like that.

"Maybe it was a long time ago," Abby mused.

"Why did he want the number?"

"It was actually to see where the person who called Lex was.  He didn't really stay on long," she added apologetically.  "You're gonna get him back, right?"

"He's on vacation, Abs."

"Cynthia said the Director got his formal resignation first thing this morning."

Gibbs lips tightened.  He'd known that, but he'd hoped the Director's secretary would practice some restraint and keep her mouth shut. 

"Gibbs."

"I'm working on it, okay?  I need to find him first."

She shot him one of her puppy dog looks, the one where she clearly expected him to fix things, and seeing as it looked as though he was the one who broke things to begin with, Gibbs felt an unaccustomed stab of guilt.  "Let me know if he calls again."  With that he stalked out of the lab. 

When he got back up to the bullpen, he snarled, "I'm going for coffee," and aimed for the elevator.

* * *

Tim and Ziva watched as the elevator opened then shut, and both said at the same time, "Abby."  They got up and headed to forensics.

* * *

Ducky had just put Ensign Douglas back in his drawer when Abby, Tim and Ziva entered the morgue.  "Ah," he said.  He'd been expecting Abby, but wasn't surprised to see the other two.  He assumed that the rumors were already circulating about Tony's official resignation.  "Tea?"

He got three head shakes. 

"Ducky, spill," Abby said.  "What do you know about Tony?"

"I assume you've all heard the rumors?"

This time he got three head nods. 

"I spoke with Tony earlier today, and he seems quite committed to leaving."

"He can't," Abby wailed.  "He's the only one who makes this place fun."  At looks from Ziva and McGee, she backtracked.  "I mean, not the only one, but you gotta admit things are more fun when he's around."

"And more annoying," Tim said.

"And more distracting," Ziva added.

"Although," Tim said, "when he was out with the plague, it was bad."

"What do you mean?" Ziva asked.

"It was boring," Tim admitted, "and Gibbs was worse than usual."  He touched the back of his head as if remembering extra head slaps.

Ducky took a moment to look at the three of them.  Abby would probably be largely immune to Gibbs' dark moods, but he suspected Tim and Ziva were in for some rough seas ahead.  "Until Tony came along, the only agent who worked with Gibbs for any length of time was Stan Burley."

"I miss Stan," Abby said.

"Do you really?" Ducky asked.  Not that Stan wasn't a nice man, he was.  And a very hard worker. 

Abby pursed her lips, studying Ducky, and Ducky allowed the perusal.  He'd rather Abby make his point for him.  "I gotcha, Duck," she finally said. 

"Well, we don't," Tim complained.

"Imagine if you will," Abby said in a dramatic voice, a hand sweeping in front of her from left to right, "a team composed of Gibbs, the second B is for bastard, and Stan Burley, the most serious and focused NCIS agent in the building."

"Hey," Tim said.  "I'm serious and focused."

"You're not listening," Abby scolded him.  "Imagine a team with Gibbs and someone who worked the same hours Gibbs did, with the same focus and determination and, just like Gibbs, had no life."

Ziva grimaced, and Ducky smiled to see it.  Perhaps a few years ago, Ziva would have welcomed such an environment, but Ducky thought that Tony had done a very good job allowing her to actually have some fun on the job, as well as the opportunity to develop some real friendships.

"Quiet?" Ziva said.

"Like a tomb," Abby said.  "Unless Gibbs was mad, in which case he was yelling, and Stan was popping antacids and complaining to Ducky about heart palpitations."

"It was a very healthy decision for him to move on," Ducky said.  "I respected Stan very much, but he and Jethro were, well, they tended to have a catalyst effect on each other."

"Gibbs must have loved that," Tim mused.

"Actually," Ducky said, "he gladly accepted Stan's resignation.  I think even Jethro understood that the two of them together created a very intimidating environment for other agents.  Gibbs kept choosing new agents to work with him and Stan, but they'd only stay their obligatory six months, sometimes not even that, and then they'd quit or request to be transferred to another team."

Abby ticked off on her fingers.  "Couldn't stand the stress, couldn't stand the pace, couldn't stand the unremitting focus, and between you and me, couldn't stand Gibbs.  You think Gibbs can be grouchy now--" she snickered.  "He's totally mellowed."

Both Ziva's and Tim's eyebrows went up at that.

"Jethro got quite a reputation for burning agents out very quickly."

"Like a revolving door."  Abby turned to Ducky.  "I completely forgot about all of that."

"What changed?" Ziva asked.

"Tony," Abby and Ducky said at the same time.

Tim made a disbelieving face.

"It's true," Abby said.  "Really.  Tony came on board and from the very beginning he gave Gibbs shit.  He fooled around and cracked jokes, and flirted with everything on two legs, and yet just he and Gibbs got everything done that all four of you do now."  She shook her head.  "I completely forgot about that, too.  After Vivian left, it was just Gibbs and Tony for a long time before Gibbs hired Kate."

"There was something about Tony's insouciant air that took a lot of the bite out of Jethro," Ducky said.  "He smiled more that first year than he had in a long time."

"He tries to hide it," Abby said, "but if you watch him, he's biting back grins all the time.  Tony breaks him up."

"But the most important thing is that once Gibbs started hiring new agents, they stayed.  Kate stayed, and would have continued to stay if not for her untimely death.  And the two of you have stayed," he said, gesturing at Tim and Ziva.

"That's not because of Tony," Tim protested. 

"I suspect you might feel differently in a month," Ducky suggested.  "I think you'll be surprised at the amount of work Tony actually accomplished, and also how much of Gibbs' bad temper he directed his way."

"And he keeps things light," Abby continued, "and helps people let off steam when things are rough.  Huh.  I hadn't really thought about the fact that it wasn't until Tony showed up that Gibbs was able to keep a full team together.  Wow."  Then she grimaced.  "But you better not even think about leaving now that Tony's gone."

"Is he really gone, then?" Ziva asked.  "Gibbs is still saying he's on vacation."

"All I know for sure," Ducky said, "is that Tony has left town.  I have no idea when, or if, he'll be back."

"We know he flew into Kansas, but that's all I know," Abby added darkly.  "Tony shut his phone off.  I don't think he wants us to find him."

Ducky wondered how long this team would stay together with Tony gone.  He suspected that Gibbs' already short temper would be exacerbated with Tony's absence.  And given the unresolved attraction between the two men, Gibbs wouldn't just be missing his amusing and hard working agent.  It was never easy to say goodbye to something you'd never worked up the nerve to try for.

Tim let out a sigh.  "Well, we better get back upstairs.  Gibbs won't be happy if he finds us all down here."

They all looked at the door to the morgue because Gibbs seemed to excel at making an entrance just when a sentence like that was spoken.  But there was no sign of him.  As there wasn't much more to say, Tim and Ziva headed back upstairs.  Abby sat on one of the morgue tables and finished the conversation with a definite, "This sucks."

* * *

Gibbs ordered his coffee tersely, handing over his money.  With coffee and change in hand, he wandered back outside.  He'd walked further than he usually did for coffee but he was in desperate need of clearing his mind.

In his years at NCIS, he'd seen dozens of agents come and go.  Every now and then he regretted someone leaving.  He'd been sorry to see Stan Burley go, but he hadn't tried to talk him out of it.  He'd never tried to talk anyone out of leaving. 

When someone thought it was time to go, it was best to let them.  There was nothing to be gained by keeping someone beyond when they should have left.  So, it would probably make the most sense to let Tony go.  He clearly thought it was time to move on, enough that he'd sent his resignation to Vance, going right over Gibbs' head. 

Gibbs should just go back in and start looking at files to find a fourth for his team.  All he really needed to decide was who would be his senior agent.  Should that promotion go to McGee or someone else internal who was a little more seasoned?  Maybe there was someone out there with Tony's years of experience who didn't want their own team, and was willing to be bribed away from their own team leader.  Gibbs snorted at the idea of anyone's chance of success at luring Tony away over the past few years.  Gibbs would have found whoever it was and made sure they understood that Tony belonged to him. 

Of course, most people with Tony's years of experience had their own teams.  Gibbs knew Tony had been offered teams, several in fact, but he'd always turned them down.  Gibbs hadn't ever given a lot of thought to it, but he was always glad when Tony declined yet another offer. 

He started walking again, getting back to the issue of a new senior agent.  Ziva was out of the question, as she wasn't an NCIS agent, but a Mossad exchange officer.  Gibbs trusted her, but too many other people didn't.  She also had outside forces focused on her that could leave her compromised.  That left McGee.  Tony had done a pretty good job toughening Tim up, although some of that was also due to Tim getting older and more experienced. 

He could stand up to Tony now, could dish it out with the best of them.  He could gird his loins and take on a political battle, and that whole prison situation showed that Tim could handle extremely difficult and stressful situations and get the job done.

He still couldn't stand up to Gibbs.  Every now and then, when forced to, he got past the stuttering and held his ground, but when push came to shove, when Gibbs said jump, Tim jumped.  Tony jumped, too, but only to a point.  If Tony thought the order to jump was wrong, he'd let Gibbs know.  He'd get in Gibbs' face when he was out of line, when he was riding them all too hard, or when Gibbs needed to just lighten up.

Someone who didn't know Tony might not see that.  They'd just see Tony acting out, screwing around--not that Tony didn't do that, too--but a good deal of that playing around was to distract Gibbs, either to get Gibbs channeling his annoyance directly at DiNozzo, or to make him laugh. 

It worked a good deal of the time.  There was no doubt that Gibbs was annoyed with Tony far more often than anyone else.  It also worked the other way because Tony was funny.  Despite Gibbs' best efforts, small grins kept escaping, and if Gibbs lightened up, everyone lightened up.

Gibbs couldn't see Tim doing that.  Not yet, at any rate.  He might not be able to do it at all.  If Gibbs promoted him, it would be a waiting game to find out whether Tim could handle him.  He wondered if he could lure Stan back.  At least he could get the job done.  But not like Tony.  If he had the luxury to choose between the two now, there'd be no contest.  In fact, there wasn't anyone he'd choose over Tony.

But now he might have to.  Gibbs couldn't imagine this place without him.  Gibbs still found his job meaningful, most days, and duty drove him now as much as it ever had.  But, sometimes, after a rough night with too little sleep and too many memories, it was the thought of Tony and his goofiness, and the big grin that would be on his face when Gibbs arrived, that got him out of the house.

There was something else Tony brought to the table that Gibbs would miss.  Tony paid attention to him.  Not his orders, or the case, but Gibbs.  Gibbs had never been the recipient of such focus.  And even if sometimes it had pissed him off, he felt a real sense of loss at the thought that it might be gone from his life.  There had been something affirming in it; like he truly mattered to someone.  Somehow, despite how hard Gibbs worked on coming across as needing nothing, something inside had grown dependent on Tony's need of him.

What had Tony called it?  Their mutual fuckedupness?  Gibbs let out a quiet mirthless laugh.  Tony was right to some extent.  Gibbs thrived on Tony's attention and had come to expect it. 

Taking a sip of coffee, he found himself reluctant to go back to the office.  But there was really no point in delaying the inevitable.  He'd get used to it eventually, an office without a Tony DiNozzo in it.  A morning without that grin, and those looks, that need, in Tony's eyes, and the possibility that that need also meant desire, and anytime Gibbs decided he might want it, Tony would give him anything Gibbs asked for.

And maybe that was it.  Maybe that's what sent Tony running.  Gibbs knew he owned Tony, and he took regular advantage of it, saying how much, and when, and pushing Tony away whenever he felt like it.  A one-sided power trip that, over time, left Tony feeling powerless.

Gibbs hadn't meant for that to happen, but he could see now that it was one possible explanation for why Tony had left.  The question was what to do about it.  Gibbs had no idea if he could change a habit of eight years.  He had no idea what it would look like to give Tony more power, to relinquish some of his own.  Oh, he could let Tony lead a case, professionally he had no problem giving Tony a longer leash, but it was the personal stuff that left Gibbs stymied even on a good day, let alone in the middle of a mess he had no idea how to mend.

What he wanted was Tony back, for things to be the way they were.  Gibbs didn't want to find a fourth, or train McGee or someone new.  He didn't want to deal with his team slowly eroding because no one was there to lighten things up.  Abby would try, but she tended to go way overboard, getting more frenetic as the day wore on. 

There was only one thing to do, he thought, as he drained the last of his coffee, throwing the empty cup in a trash can and striding back to the office.  Once he was back he took the stairs up to Vance's office, nodding to Ziva and McGee as he passed them.  Vance's secretary, Cynthia, the one who couldn't keep her mouth shut, told him to go on in.

"I need a week off," Gibbs told him.

"This wouldn't have anything to do with DiNozzo, would it?" Vance asked, leaning back in his chair.

"All I'm asking for is a week off," Gibbs said.  "What I want to do with it is my affair."

"Interesting choice of words."

"Are you making accusations?" Gibbs snapped.

"No," Vance said quickly, "no accusations.  An observation or two, maybe."  His face invited some conversation.

Gibbs was in no mood to talk to Vance.  "Do I have your approval?"

Vance sighed, sitting up straighter.  "Any open cases?"

"No, we just wrapped it up this morning.  They can work on cold cases while I'm gone."

"Will I be able to get a hold of you while you're gone?"

"Assuming my phone works," Gibbs said.  "They don't always work for me."

"Convenient," Vance said dryly.  "Get out of here."

Gibbs didn't need to be told twice.  He jogged back down the steps, feeling lighter than he had since this whole damn thing had started.  He was also surprised that it seemed as if Vance thought he and Tony were sleeping together.  Maybe they should have been.  Maybe if he'd taken Tony to his bed a long time ago, the power thing would have worked itself out.

"I'm taking a week off," he announced, putting on his jacket.  He was taking his badge and gun with him.

Tim's eyebrows rose high on his face.  "You are?"

"You can work on cold cases, or assist any of the other teams.  Or take some time off yourself if you want."  Gibbs didn't really care.  He just wanted to be on the road.  Without waiting to hear what they had to say about his plans, he next went to Abby.

"If you hear from Tony, or figure out where he is," Gibbs told her, "call me.  I'm heading to Smallville."

She beamed at him.  "You're going to bring him home?"

"I'll give it my best shot," he promised her.

"You're the best."  She frowned.  "Remember, though, that we're not even sure he's in Smallville."

"Figure it out," he told her.  "And let me know."

"You got it.  Let me see your phone."  He handed it over and she gave it a look, making a few adjustments.  "Don't forget to charge it."

"I've got a charger in my car."

"You're driving?"

Gibbs nodded.

"Gibbs, that's like a sixteen hour drive.  Nineteen if you end up driving to Metropolis.  Why don't you fly?"

"It won't take me that long," Gibbs said.  He wanted to drive.  It just felt easier to drive than to figure out a commercial flight and then rent a car.

She gave him a hug.  "Drive carefully, and bring him home."

"You need to find him first, Abs," he reminded her.

"I'll find him, I promise."

He hoped so, because otherwise he might be taking a ride across several state lines for nothing.  "See you in a week."  And with that he was off.


	2. Chapter 2

**Unknown location**

**Friday**

Clark had no idea how much time had gone by.  He knew he'd been taken somewhere and put inside a room with meteor rock in every corner and around the door.  There wasn't enough of it to cripple him, but more than enough to strip him of his powers.  He felt a low-grade nausea that had him constantly swallowing, and a headache that was a constant jackhammer inside his brain.

He still didn't know who had taken him or why.  They periodically brought him meals.  He had a bathroom with a sink and toilet, so he had access to any water he needed.  So, whoever it was, wanted him alive.  Clark wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

No one had spoken to him.  Silent men in Middle Eastern dress had brought the food, and they'd also taken away the empty dishes.  They'd refused to respond to any of his questions.  He wondered if he'd been taken by some terrorist cell, but that didn't make any sense at all.  He couldn't imagine what they wanted him for, or what they could possibly do to him to make him willing to help them, but his heart pounded at the thought.  The nausea grew as well, and he barely made it to the toilet on time before he vomited the meal he'd just eaten.  

There was no bed, only a mattress on the floor, and he crawled back to it, staring at the ceiling.  His parents had to be going crazy by now.  He wondered how many times Lex had called the number on his new cell only to have no one answer.  He probably thought Clark hated him.  That more than anything else made Clark's throat tighten, and he had to knuckle his eyes to wipe away the moisture there.  He missed his mom and dad, but he needed Lex to come get him and make him feel safe.

* * *

**Metropolis**

**Friday 5:00 pm**

Tony stared out the huge picture window in Lex's office and thought about what to tell Martha.  'Martha, Clark's been kidnapped by someone who wants to auction off an alien to the world's most powerful and wealthy people.  Lex is invited to the auction because he's one of those powerful and wealthy people who are willing to look the other way when something illegal is going on.'

Yeah, that would go over great.  Not that it wasn't true, but Tony found himself really liking Lex, and he didn't want to tell Martha anything that would make her distrustful, or more distrustful, of Lex.

Lex, for all the fact that he was young, actually reminded Tony of Gibbs.  Gibbs seemed so straight-laced and by the book, but Gibbs was also willing to look the other way if it suited him.  Tony had watched him set up a gang member to be murdered, he'd hidden evidence and falsified testimony.  He'd certainly let his old boss, Franks, get away with some nasty stuff.  Tony wasn't exactly sure what it was, but there was no doubt Franks was on the wrong end of whatever he'd been doing.

He hadn't said a thing when Tony let that guy walk away free with three million dollars in stolen money.  Gibbs lied to protect a murderer, Jenny, and in fact, Gibbs was a murderer himself.  Tony wasn't supposed to know, but he wasn't stupid, and he paid attention, and he knew that Gibbs had shot that drug runner in cold blood, the one that had killed Gibbs' wife and daughter. 

Gibbs was one-third law-breaker, one-third vigilante, and one-third guardian angel.  He'd break the law in a heartbeat if there was something, or someone, more important to protect, or a larger picture to be true to.  Tony saw that same dedication in Lex.  Lex would do anything to protect Clark, and Tony suspected he already had.  It would be interesting, after this was all over, to get a few drinks in Lex and start him talking.

Tony heard shifting, and turned to see that Martha was waking up.  He moved quickly to sit on the end of the couch.  "Hey," he said softly.

"Did he find him?" she pleaded.

"No," Tony said.  "But he thinks he knows where he is."

"Where?"

"The cop in me isn't willing to tell you, because I don't want you doing anything brave and stupid.  What I want you to do is trust me when I say that I trust Lex, and we're both going to do what it takes to bring Clark home.  Can you do that?"

He could see she wanted to say no, but she was smart, and he could tell that she knew it wouldn’t do her any good.  "Can you tell me anything?"

"Not right now.  I think you should go home.  I'm sure Jonathan is going crazy, and there isn't anything you can do here right now.  Lex has the helicopter standing by, and they can have you back to Smallville in thirty minutes."

"That seems like such a fuss," she said.  "Maybe I could rent a car."

"And maybe you should let Lex take care of you the way he'd like to," Tony suggested.

"You like him, don't you?"

"I do."

She smiled sadly.  "I like him, too.  I always have."

"It's not really like you to let someone else dictate how you treat someone, even your husband," Tony said.  "How'd that happen?

"It's not really like anyone else in the world is raising an alien child and needing to protect him from anyone finding out," she said chidingly.  "We never knew who to trust.  Long before we ever met Lex, Jonathan and I made a decision not to tell anyone, deciding it was just too dangerous.  Between that decision, and the bad history Jonathan had with Lex's father, telling Lex didn't seem wise.  And I didn't know him well enough, certainly, to make that decision independently."

Tony allowed her that, but he couldn't help saying, "Maybe Clark did.  Did you ever ask him if he felt he could trust Lex?"

She sighed, rubbing her face with his hands.  "Tony, I don't know.  Part of me thinks if Lex had known from the start, that none of this would have happened, because he wouldn't have unknowingly put Clark at risk to satisfy his own curiosity.  He could hardly know that every curious thing that happened in Smallville led right back to Clark.  But Jonathan is a very stubborn man."

"That he is," Tony said with a grin.

"It's always been difficult to understand why Lex and Clark even became friends.  Lex was always trying to give things to Clark.  When Clark saved his life, he tried to repay Clark with a new truck.  He has so much money.  It put him in a very different circle than one Jonathan and I were comfortable with."

"You grew up with money," Tony argued.

"Some," she corrected him.  "Certainly not like the money you grew up with, and we're both amateurs compared to the money Lex was surrounded by.  Part of my reluctance to support their friendship was my own belief that it wouldn't last long.  How could it?  What could they possibly have in common?"  She spread her hands in confusion.  "And yet, Lex has been a more stalwart friend this last year than Clark's other friends.  Honestly, it's a mystery to me.  And that's part of Jonathan's hostility about it, because he thinks Lex has designs on Clark."

"Do you think he does?"

"I think that whatever Lex feels for Clark, Clark feels it right back," she said.  "And I'm not sure exactly what that is, nor am I sure exactly how I feel about it.  Clark already has so many secrets, does he really need to be gay, too?  Does he need to have a secret lover who's a billionaire?"

"I don't know what Lex thinks about that, but I do know he'll do whatever it takes to get Clark back." 

She giggled unexpectedly; it sounded a bit manic.  "For all we knew, all the people from his planet are gay.  What do we know about it?  We have no idea how old he is, or what his lifespan will be, or even what he's really capable of.  We really don't know anything.  We've raised him to be human, but he's not."

Tony pulled her close and hugged her, appreciating her all the more for carrying this secret for so long.  "You did a great job with him."

"I just want him back," she said, tears in her eyes.  "Promise me we'll get him back."

"We'll do everything we can.  That I can promise.  Now, can I talk you into going home?" 

"Only if you promise to call me regularly with updates," she said.

"I can tell you this much," Tony said.  "We can't go find him until tomorrow night.  Lex thinks he knows where he might be then."

"So someone really does have him?"

Tony nodded grimly.

"How will he ever be safe again?  If people know, they'll keep trying, won't they?"

"I don't have an answer for that," Tony said, although she was probably right.  "Let's get him back, and we'll deal with the rest of it later.  Go home, be with Jonathan, get some more sleep if you can.  Keep Jonathan from going ballistic about having to depend on Lex to help him get his son back."

Martha snorted in derision.  "Right.  All that's doing is throwing gasoline on a bonfire.  Jonathan hates that he can't find Clark on his own, having to depend on Lex is like grinding salt in his wounds."

"Yet you still came here."

"I had to," she said.  "Clark is more important than Jonathan's pride."

He didn't want to hurt Martha anymore, so silently to himself, Tony thought about how Jonathan didn't seem to think so.  If Martha had listened to Jonathan, Clark would be auctioned off to someone tomorrow night, to do who knew what to him, and he'd never be found.  He saw some rough seas ahead for Jonathan if Lex pulled this off.

Tony pulled her into a hug.  "I think you're awesome," he told her.  "And hopefully, late tomorrow night, we'll be bringing Clark home."

"I'm so glad you came," she told him, leaning back, cupping his face in her hands.  "Thank you.  I honestly don't know if I would have come here on my own."

If Tony was going to have a meltdown about his job, he couldn't have timed it better.  He was grateful for that, if not for how big a fool he'd made of himself in front of Gibbs.  "Come on," he said, pulling her up.  "Let's go."

He stopped by Julia's desk, asking where they should go to find the helicopter Lex had called for earlier.  She didn't blink, so Tony assumed Lex had left instructions to give Tony anything he needed.  She made a phone call and a woman showed up, silently taking them to the roof.  He got Martha buckled in, gave some instructions to the pilot, then closed the door.  He moved away, but stayed on the roof until the helicopter was just a small black spot in the sky.

* * *

The conference room door opened, and Lex saw Tony enter.  They'd been at it for two hours and he was already exhausted. 

"Break time," Tony said to the group.

Lex almost lashed out in anger, but he held his tongue.  "Tony," he started.

"Just ten minutes," Tony cajoled.  "It will give everyone time to have a potty break.  Come talk to me."

Lips pursed, Lex studied the lawyers around the table.  None of them knew the reason behind why Lex was suddenly tearing LuthorCorp apart.  Some of them saw this as the end of their employment, even though Lex had told them otherwise.  He hoped it wasn't a lie.  He hoped he could keep LexCorp intact and rebuild his own dynasty, one he could create through his own work, not something he inherited.  "I trust all of you to keep what's going on in this room confidential," he told the attorneys staring at him.  "But, I'll add some inducement.  Any of you who are still working for me by the end of this--and it won’t be me who ends our working relationship--you will split five percent of all sales we are able to accomplish between now and tomorrow evening.  If any of you talk, and the value of LuthorCorp plummets, you'll be taking money out of your own pockets."  He lanced them all with his gaze.  "I suggest you keep an eye on each other."  With that, he followed Tony out of the room.

"Okay, that was impressive," Tony said.  "Even I won't go near a phone, now."

Lex shot him a lopsided grin.  "In my world, money speaks louder than anything."  He moved to the large windows, looking down on Metropolis, wondering where they were keeping Clark, and if he was okay.  Lex rather suspected he wasn't, and it killed him that he couldn't go get Clark now.

"What happens if you're wrong, and we get to this auction, and they're selling off shares of Mars?" Tony asked.

"I have no idea," Lex said.  "But, I'm not wrong.  Not about this."

"Will you be able to raise enough?"

Lex didn't know the answer to that, either.  "I'm starting with my father's company, and the companies we hold jointly.  I'm hoping to keep LexCorp intact, although of course I'll sell that too, if it becomes necessary."  It would make it harder to rebuild if he was starting from scratch, but he'd manage.

"Clark is lucky he has you.  Beyond lucky."

"Even if the only reason he's in this situation is because of me?" Lex asked bleakly.

"I don't believe that.  Don't you think it would have happened sooner or later?  Don't you think Clark would have done something to make someone else curious?  Someone like your dad?  Or someone worse?"

"There isn't much worse out there."  Not with Lionel's Machiavellian gift for planning the downfall of others, including his son.

"What can I do to help?" Tony said.  "Are there phone calls I can make?  Do you want some pizza from some place that doesn't deliver?  A blow job?"

A laugh escaped Lex, and he turned to Tony and found the ability to smile.  "At any other time, I might take you up on that."  Such an odd and welcome thing, to have this man show up now, at a time when Lex needed a friend more than any other time.  Even more odd and welcome for him to take Lex's side. 

"I just want to make sure you get that I'll do anything to help," Tony said.

Lex did get that.  "Thank you.  I'm glad you're here."  It would have been unbearable to do this with nothing but his attorneys for company.  "Let me ask your advice."

"Anything," Tony said, sounding curious.

Lex took him over to his desk, and he picked up a small hexagonal piece of metal.  "I think this belongs to Clark's ship.  I think it's the key to turn it on."

"Holy crap," Tony said, reaching out, his eyes asking permission.

Lex handed it to him.  "I'm debating whether to bring this tomorrow night."

"Why?"

"I suspect that they'll be auctioning off Clark along with his spaceship.  Right now, the spaceship doesn't work."  Lex tapped the metal resting in Tony's palm.  "They need that."

"You think you can sell it to the auctioneers?"

"I know I can.  And for a lot of money.  The problem is that with the key, the spaceship, along with Clark, becomes much more valuable, and it might drive the auction up past the point I can participate."

"If you bring it, will they recognize it?  Could they take it from you?"

"They might recognize it, but they won't take it.  They could drop by and be very persuasive about asking to buy it, and if they do that, I really won't be in a position to say no."

"Leave it here, then.  Have Julia or someone else on standby that can bring it to an agreed upon place to be picked up.  Will they be honest and actually pay you for it, once they have their hands on it?"

Lex chuffed out a short laugh.  "Yes.  Honor among thieves and all of that.  They have a reputation to uphold."

"Even if they steal teenagers off the street and sell them against their will?" Tony said angrily.

"Even if," Lex said.  He took the piece of metal from Tony's hand and slipped it into his pocket.

"How much money do you have so far?"

"The early sales were easiest, and with what money I had on hand, I have close to a billion dollars."  He opened the small refrigerator and retrieved two bottles of water.  After handing one to Tony, Lex twisted the top off his.

Tony was impressed.  “If that’s not enough, you can’t just give them an IOU, or the deed to some lakeshore property?”

"The money needs to be free and clear.  Before a bid is accepted, the money is wired to a private account so the auctioneer can see that it is available.  If no money shows up, the bid is considered null and void.  Whoever loses, the money is instantly sent back to the bank of their choice.  The money of the winner, needless to say, is kept."

"This doesn't sound like a usual auction where they bid something off quickly."

"No, it's nothing like it.  These auctions can last hours.  I heard one lasted for two days, but I wasn't a part of it.  As the bids grow higher, it takes time to liquidate assets.  People are either patient or they fold and go home."

"Jesus," Tony said.  "How much do you think you'll need?"

"Two billion at a minimum."

Tony swallowed.  "How much do you think you'll have?"

"At least two billion.  Even if I have to sell the clothes I'm wearing."

"I wish I had money to give you.  My family has money, but they disowned me a long time ago."

"Why?"

"Because I didn't want to go into the family business."

"Good for you," Lex said, respecting the man in front of him even more, and losing respect for himself in the bargain.

As if he could read his mind, Tony put a hand on his arm.  "Don't do that.  You love this, don't you?"

"Love what?"

"The business side of things, the deals, the boardroom shenanigans, the power plays, you love it, right?"

"I do."

"I didn't.  I hated it.  There's nothing wrong with doing it as long as you're doing it the way you want, and not the way your father wanted you to."

"It's a fine line."

"I suspect it's a colossal line, like a major highway.  Do you think your father would have cared enough about anyone to give up his business?"

Lex shook his head.  "Not even for me.  I was taken hostage once, and my father refused to pay them."

"Bastard," Tony said with feeling.  "The guy was an asshole.  Are you?"

"I can be."

"So can we all, but what I see, when I look at you, is a good guy, doing his best to stay honest in a tank full of sharks."

Lex appreciated the comment.  "I'm not always honest."

"Neither am I.  It's what makes me a great undercover cop.  I can lie with the best of them.  It doesn't make me a bad guy, although to some it might."

Lex wanted to continue this conversation, but he needed to get back.  "Do you want to join me, or do something else?"  He would prefer to have Tony be there with him so Lex would know he had someone there watching out for his best interests, but he wouldn't press.

"I'll join you, at least for a while."

He flashed Tony a tight smile.  "Let's get back at it, then."

* * *

**Unknown location**

**Friday**

Clark had never been so exhausted.  He'd been exposed to the rock before, but never for so long.  Even during his brief stints when he'd lost his powers, he hadn't felt this bad.  Everything hurt.  He felt a thousand years old, his joints were stiff, his muscles were cramping, he'd been throwing up regularly, and even his vision was blurry.

When the door opened, Clark didn't even have the energy to see who it was, assuming they were bringing his next meal.  He had no interest in eating; it all came back up anyway.

"I need to ask you some questions," a new voice said.

Clark didn't really care what the guy needed.

"Remove some of this rock," he ordered, and Clark heard other people come in.  He could feel it immediately.  None of his strength came back, but the nausea eased, and he felt as if he might be able to move.  He wished, again, for Lex's sudden appearance, knowing that despite the fact that Clark had superpowers, that it would be Lex who would get him out of this.  Just the way Lex always got Clark out of trouble.

Thinking of Lex, though, gave Clark some renewed interest in trying to free himself.  If Lex didn't come, which meant he couldn't come, Clark would never see him again.  He might not have his powers, but it didn't mean Clark couldn't keep his eyes open and wait for an opportunity to escape.

He rolled over and looked at his new visitor.  He was sitting on a chair that had obviously been brought in for his comfort.  He still looked of Middle Eastern descent, but unlike the other men, this one wore a suit.  An expensive suit, something Clark knew only because he paid so much attention to what Lex wore.  Plus, he'd rummaged through Lex's closet a few times.  "Why am I here?" Clark asked.  "What do you want from me?"

"I will ask the questions," the man said.  "Are you a virgin?"

That question got Clark's attention, and he sat up, crawling back until he was flush against the wall.  "Why?  Why do you need to know that?"

"Just answer the question."

"No, I won't answer the question," Clark said indignantly.

"I can find out in less agreeable ways," the man said.  "I can insert my fingers in your rectum and assess the tightness of your sphincter.  I can touch your prostate and watch your face to determine if you have ever experienced the pleasure."

Clark's mouth dropped.  That kind of virgin?  That was even worse.  Not that he hadn't thought about it.  A lot.  With Lex.  But, he'd thought they were talking the other type.  Him and a girl.  There was only one reason they could be asking about the other type, and fear flushed through Clark’s body.  "No," he said with a cracked voice.  "No, I've never done that."

"You will be taken for a CT scan," the man told him.  "And examined by a physician."

"What?"  Clark didn't understand.  "What are you doing this for?"  He could guess that they knew he wasn't from around here, but what were they going to do with him?  Try to breed alien babies?  That was the best Clark's fevered mind could come up with.

"You will get up, slowly, and choose to cooperate," the man ordered, "or you will be taken by force.  I leave that choice up to you."

There was still enough rock in the room to weaken Clark, but there was a possibility that outside of this room a moment would present itself for him to run.  He might not have the ability for super speed, but he could run fast even without it.  "I'll get up," he said, struggling to his feet.  His plans for running suddenly seemed less likely, as he could barely stay standing. 

A wheelchair was brought into the room.  "Sit," the man said.

Clark thought reserving what little strength he had was a good idea, so he sat.  As soon as he did, he felt the meteor rock they'd put somewhere on the chair.  And once out in the hallway, he saw meteor rocks lining the baseboards.  These people who had him, whoever the hell they were, had no intention of providing him the opportunity to escape. 

He was taken to another room with a large piece of equipment.  Despite his wishes, he was assisted onto the stretcher that was attached to the machine.

"Stay still," the man told him.  "If you move, they will simply do the test again.  We will not stop until I am satisfied with the results."

Despair was settling in, and Clark saw no purpose in moving.  He believed the man utterly, and he had no desire to stay in this machine any longer than necessary.  He closed his eyes and pretended he was with Lex, that he was taking a nap on Lex's couch, while Lex answered e-mails and rustled paper, occasionally taking a phone call.

He must have slept, because the next thing he knew he was being ordered back to the chair and wheeled down the hall, continuing in the same direction they'd come.  Clark was wheeled into a room that was full of meteor rocks.  He immediately began retching, and would have fallen out of the chair if hands hadn't caught his shoulders.  He vomited on the floor, barely noticing that someone was scraping it up and putting it in a plastic container. 

"Put him on the table," another voice said, and Clark barely got his eyes open to see another man putting on examination gloves. 

Clark tried to fight, but there were too many rocks.  He could barely lift an arm.  Tears filled his eyes, and he was as appalled by them as he was by his inability to literally lift a finger.  By the end of the examination, Clark felt violated.  The touching had been routine at the start, checking his eyes and mouth, but over time they'd touched him everywhere, including a thorough inspection of his genitals and ass.  The only good thing was that nothing had been shoved inside of him, but the dread remained of it happening at some point.     

After the inspection, he was put back in the wheelchair and wheeled back to his hated room, where he was assisted to the mattress. 

"I have more questions," the man said, sitting back in his chair.

"I don't care," Clark said, his words the only weapon he had to fight back.

"You have people you care about?"

Clark rolled over and looked at the man.  "Leave them out of this," he hissed.

"Then answer my questions."

"You have no right to do this."

"You are not a human," the man said.  "There are no activist groups crying out for the humane treatment of aliens."

Clark had known that they knew his secrets, but having it spoken out loud was jarring.  "What are you going to do to me?"

"That will be up to your new owner," the man said.  "Where are you from?"

"My new owner?"

"Where are you from?"

"I don't know."

"I won't ask again."

Fear for his parents, for Lex, for his other friends, made Clark frantic.  "I really don't know.  I can't read the words on my ship, or on the disk that came with it."

"This?"  The man held out the disk.

"Where did you get that?"  The last time Clark had seen it, it had been in his bedroom.  "If you hurt anyone--where are my parents?"

"The man and woman who raised you are unhurt.  We had no wish to harm anyone in procuring the necessary items to prove your heritage.  Is there anything else?"

Clark had no intention of telling them about the piece Lex had.  "No," he said.  "That's everything."

"How does the ship turn on?"

"We never figured it out," Clark said, the fact that it was the truth clear in his voice.  The small piece Lex had was key, maybe even the key, but Clark had never had the chance to figure out how it worked. 

"Are there others of your kind?"

Clark shook his head, feeling more alone right now than he ever had.  As far as he knew, he was the only one of his kind.  "I don't know.  I just found out I wasn't human a year ago."

"Mr. and Mrs. Kent knew, though?"

"Don't you even say their names," Clark hissed.  This room had less meteor rock in it, so he was finally able to sit up on his own and get his back against the wall.

"Mr. and Mrs. Kent knew?"

The sheer implacability of the man made a mockery of Clark's rebellion.  Closing his eyes, he answered, "Yes, but they didn't tell me until I came to them with questions."

"What were those questions?"

"Why I wasn't dead when someone hit me with their car."

"Lex Luthor?"

"He doesn't know anything!" Clark managed to shout, even if it exhausted him.

"We are not concerned with what Lex Luthor knows or doesn't know.  We are simply gathering facts."

Clark found it curious that they didn't care what Lex knew.  Lex, probably more than any other person besides Clark's parents, knew the most of what he could do.  He bore some of the scars of Clark's strength.  "What did you mean, my new owner?"

"You will discover that soon enough," the man said.  "What else can you do?"

"What do you know?"

"We know you are fast.  We know you are strong."

"That's all," Clark lied.  The x-ray vision wasn't much, but them not knowing about it might make a difference at some point.  He tried to use it now, but he could barely see with his normal vision.  He looked at the man, willing his face to not give anything away.  Clark knew he was a lousy liar, all those disappointed looks from Lex had taught him that.

"What is this rock?"

"It came with me.  That's all I know."

"Can it kill you?"

"Why don't you throw more in here, and we can find out," Clark snapped.  He might be better off dead in the long run.  He wondered what would happen if he tried to eat some of the stuff.

"No, you are more valuable to us alive."  The man stood, and someone scurried in to remove the chair.

"What's going to happen to me?" Clark pleaded. 

"I do not know," the man said.  "That is not my decision to make."  With that, he left the room.

Clark sagged against the wall, trying to marshal some strength.  In time, he crawled to the corner of the room where some meteor rock was.  He picked it up, put it in his mouth and tried to swallow. 

It was in his mouth for about three seconds before four men came in, three of them grabbing him, the fourth prying open his mouth and sweeping the rock out of his mouth.  He was dumped to the ground and Clark lay where he had fallen, eventually hearing the sounds of carpentry as bins were made for the stone high up on the walls, far out of his reach.

* * *

**Missouri**

**Saturday 7 am**

Gibbs made it halfway before he had to stop and get some sleep.  He pulled into a Motel 6 and paid for a room.  Setting his alarm for three hours, he called Abby.  "Anything?" he said, before she said a word.

She yawned in his ear.  "Gibbs," she complained, "it's early."

"Did you find him?"

"No," she said.  "He hasn't called.  He hasn't used his phone.  He bought gas at a gas station that put him on a road leading to Smallville, so that's still our best guess."

"I need to get some sleep, but even with that I should be there by mid afternoon.  I'll call you."

She yawned again.  "I'll keep looking.  After I get more sleep," she added grouchily.

He hung up and before the phone, still in his hand, hit the bed, Gibbs was asleep.

* * *

**Metropolis:**

**Saturday 3:00 pm**

"I hate to keep asking you this," Tony said, after dragging Lex out of the conference room again, "but how's it going?"

"I have close to one point five billion," Lex said, sounding as exhausted as he looked, "but word's out, and the prices are starting to fall.  It's a good thing Wall Street is closed today, because if not, LuthorCorp stock would be worthless right now.  I've had three attorneys walk out already.  I expect I'll lose more as the day goes on."  He rubbed his face with his hands.

"You need to get some sleep."

"I can't afford to.  Literally.  Every second decreases the value of what I'm trying to sell.  I've started selling Lionel's art collection.  There are several properties, as well, that I'm trying to sell at the same time.  All of that should go at close to market value, as the value of the art and homes shouldn't be affected by the plummeting value of the company."

Tony shook his head, continuing to be amazed at the man in front of him.  He didn't know a single other person in the world who would so willingly destroy his future for the safe return of a friend.

"I'll ask again, how can I help?"

"Work with Julia.  She hasn't gotten any sleep either.  She can tell you the value of what she's working on, and maybe she'll be able to close her eyes for a moment."

"What about you?"

"I'll sleep when Clark's safe."

"You need to be on your game tonight."

"Then I'll sleep during bids.  I can't stop now.  Do you understand that?" His voice was sharp enough to make Tony back off. 

"Yeah, I get it.  Sorry."

Lex ran a hand over his head.  "No, I'm sorry.  You don't deserve my anger."

"If it will help, you can be as angry at me as you want.  You can even hit me.  And the blow job's still on the table."

"I know I'm crazy to pass on that, but I'm going to, at least for now.  But I will take you up on some of that pizza that won't deliver.  It's called Giovanni's.  Get enough for everyone.  Julia can give you the address."

"You got it.  What do you want to drink?"

"Whiskey?"  Lex laughed a little and dropped his head.  "Coke would be fine.  Make it an assortment."  He blew out his breath, his shoulders straightening.  "Thanks again, for everything.  This would be much harder without you here."

"I'm glad to be here."  And Tony was, both for Clark and for Lex.  He walked with Lex out to where Julia sat, and watched as he vanished into the conference room.

Tony glanced over to see a worried look in Julia's eyes.  "Don't bail on him," Tony begged.  "He needs you."

"I’m not going anywhere," Julia said brusquely, as if her honor had been impugned at the thought.  "I'm worried about him."

"He'll be okay," Tony said.  Assuming they got Clark back.  If they didn't, Tony wasn't sure if Lex would ever be okay. 

"Something bad happened, didn't it?" she asked.  "Did someone get kidnapped?  Is he having to raise ransom money?"

"Something like that," Tony said, not sure how much he should say. 

She thought for a moment and then her eyes widened.  "Oh, it’s not Clark, is it?"

Tony nodded.

Her lips tightened, and she looked down at the piles of paper in front of her.  "Then I'd better get busy."

"I'll be back to help you after I get pizza for Lex."

She waved a hand at Tony.  "I've got people who can go get pizza.  If you really want to help, sit your ass down."  In less than a minute, people were dispatched for pizza and soda, and Tony had chosen the art pieces that appealed the most to him, along with a list of people who were collectors, and he went back to Lex's office, set himself up at Lex's desk, and picked up the phone.

* * *

**Smallville:**

**Saturday 3 pm**

Gibbs stopped at some place called The Talon for a cup of coffee.  The place was draped in black, and the girl who handed him his coffee had red-rimmed eyes. 

"What happened?" he asked cautiously.

The girl burst into tears and ran into the back.  Other than Gibbs, the place was deserted.  He roamed around for a moment, curious, taking cautious sips of his coffee.  All the information he needed to figure out what was going on was on a table, set up as a memorial.  **Lana Lang Dead** , read the headline, along with a picture of the girl.  It didn't do her as much justice as the framed photo next to it did.  She was a very attractive girl, if a little too pouty for Gibbs' taste.  Not to speak ill of the dead, but he suspected she had led everyone a very pretty dance before she died.

She'd died in a tornado, Gibbs read.  Gibbs hadn't lived around tornadoes for a long time.  There was a smaller article underneath the one about hers, and Gibbs latched onto it.  Lex Luthor's dad died the same day, apparently from the same tornado storm.  Despite his money and notoriety, Lana was clearly the big news around Smallville, considering who got the top headline.  From what little Gibbs had known about Lionel Luthor, he must have been spinning in his grave to be playing second fiddle to a teenage girl, even in the Smallville Ledger.

The waitress finally crept back out, and Gibbs had her top off his coffee.  "Is Lex Luthor around?"

She sniffled but shook her head.  "He went back to Metropolis when his dad died."

"You haven't seen this guy around, have you?"  Gibbs held up a picture of Tony he'd gotten from Abby.

The girl's eyes lit up in appreciation, but she shook her head.  "No.  I'd have remembered him."

Gibbs managed not to roll his eyes.  "Thanks."  He put the picture away, thanked her for the coffee, and walked back to his car.  Before he got in he stretched, sick of the car now, wishing he'd flown, but stuck at this point.  Three more hours.  He could do that in his sleep.  Of course, it would be helpful to know exactly where in Metropolis he was going.  He thought of calling Abby again, but she was starting to get testy, and Gibbs knew she'd call as soon as she heard anything.

* * *

**Smallville:**

**Saturday 5 pm**

Martha was beginning to have her doubts that they'd survive this with their marriage intact.  If Jonathan opened his mouth again, she'd walk out that front door, and she wasn't sure she'd be back.

"Call him again," Jonathan said.

"He'll call me when he has some information," Martha said wearily.  "How many times do I have to tell you that?  They won't know anything until tonight."

His eyes darkened, and Martha knew he was going to badmouth Lex again.  At this point, Tony was right.  The cat was out of the bag on Clark, and that meant, as far as Martha was concerned, that she wasn't going to let anyone, even her husband, dictate her behavior about anything.  "Don't say it.  Don't say another bad thing about him, or I'll walk out that front door."

"Damn it, Martha."

"I mean it.  I trust Lex.  Tony trusts Lex."

"Tony's known the man less than a day."

"Which should tell you something."

"What I want to know is how Lex knows that something is happening tonight.  How can he know that, if he isn't a part of it?"

Martha stood as well and grabbed for her purse.  Jonathan had asked that same question a dozen times.  She understood why he was asking, but it was his astonishing pigheadedness and absolute inability to see beyond his hatred for Lex that was beginning to sicken Martha.  She headed for the front door.

"Don't you even care?" Jonathan snapped behind her.

She turned around and slapped him across the face.  "Don't you dare!  Don't you ever dare to say something like that to me!  The truer question would be to ask if you care.  Because I think your pride, and the fact that Lionel made a fool of you years ago, has blinded you past the point of reason, and I'm sick of it."

"And you're blind to the danger Lex puts Clark in."

She tried one more time.  "Or it's Clark's fault for not being human.  Or ours for taking him in and stopping to help a father with his injured son in his arms.  Would you have wanted to be the type of man who wouldn't stop for someone in need?"

Jonathan looked like he wanted to say yes, at least if the person hurt was a Luthor, but he shook his head no. 

"We helped the wrong man, and that hurt us, and it helped us hurt some people we care about," Martha said.  "And that made you hate the son, just on principle.  Yet Clark insisted on being friends.  Whose fault is it that Clark is willing to look beyond appearances and rumors to become friends?  Whose?"

Jonathan shrugged.

"Ours, I hope," Martha continued.  "Clark's a good boy.  He saved Lex's life, and they formed a connection.  Whose fault is it that Lex was sent to Smallville?  Lionel's?  Lex isn't stupid, Jonathan.  How could he not know that Clark was lying to him?  How could he not feel betrayed by that?  Especially when all you had to do was look at him to see that all he wanted was to belong.  Belong to us, Jonathan, not just to Clark.  He wanted a family.  He wanted a home.  He's just a boy himself."

Jonathan shifted uneasily. 

"But we broke his heart, over and over again.  I could see it in his eyes.  And yet, he never took what we were doing and used it against Clark, or tried to turn Clark against us.  Ever.  And that makes him, in some ways, a better man than you."

Jonathan looked like he was about to explode. 

Martha held up her hand to stop him.  "Don't say it.  Listen to me, or I'm walking."

He still looked like he was going to explode, but Jonathan held his tongue.

"You would have chosen Whitney as a best friend for Clark, before Lex, wouldn't you have?"

"In a minute," Jonathan said.

"Clark told me that Whitney stripped him down to his boxers and hung him up in the cornfields with a necklace of meteor rock around his neck.  Do you know who found him and cut him down?"

Jonathan looked like the last thing he wanted to hear was the answer.

"Lex.  Do you remember how it was we managed to keep our farm after you sold it to Bob Rickman?  Lex."

"I don't want to hear this."

"Too bad.  When Clark and everyone in his class were taken hostage, who walked in unarmed, to exchange himself for their release?  Lex."

Jonathan stalked to the refrigerator and opened it, pulling out a beer.  He twisted the top off, and drank half of it down.

"Listen to me, mister," Martha said as clearly as she could, "I fully expect Lex to find Clark tonight and to bring him home.  And I plan to welcome them back with open arms, and make it clear to Lex that as long as he and Clark are friends, that he can consider himself a part of this family.  I expect you to do the same.  And if you can't, I'll take Clark, and we'll leave."

"Martha!  You can't mean that."

"Just watch me.  You need to understand that Clark will never be safe after this.  People know about him.  And because some people know, bad people, more people will know.  We will need Lex's money and power to protect him.  And I don't want to hear one more time that it was his fault.  Because if it was his fault, then it was our fault, too, because everything he did was in reaction to what we did."  She knew this was painful for him to hear, but she had to get through to him.  "Do you understand the danger he'll be in?  We can't protect him here, not without help."

"I don't know if I can live with myself if I have to go to Lex to help protect my own son."

"That's your choice, but you sure as hell won't be living with me and Clark if that's the best you can do.  Are you listening to yourself?  You're letting your pride and ego be more important than Clark."

He threw the beer bottle across the room until it shattered against the opposite wall, the last of the beer making a large splatter on the wall before dripping to the floor.

"I hope that was you waking up to yourself," Martha said, "and not your last effort to hang on to your useless pride.  You have until tonight to let me know which it was."  She walked up the stairs and locked herself in the bedroom, lay down on the bed, and sobbed herself to sleep.

* * *

**Metropolis:**

**Saturday 6:00 pm**

"I have to sleep for an hour," Lex said, stumbling into his office.

"Make it two, and it's a deal."

"I'm down to two lawyers, Julia, and you," Lex said.

"Aren't you just waiting for calls to come in?"

Lex nodded.

"So get some sleep.  I can answer your phone as well as you can.  If it's important, or if they insist on speaking to you, I'll wake you."

Tony wasn't sure Lex was going to make it to the couch.  As he sank down, Lex said, "You need something expensive to wear tonight."

"I have a William Fioravanti in the car," Tony told him.

That got Lex's attention.  "You do?"

"Hey, just because I'm a cop, doesn't mean I can't dress well."

"Jesus, I think I love you," Lex said with a small smile.  "Please talk to Clark about the importance of clothes.  He thinks flannel is haute couture."

Tony snickered.  "When you look like that, it is."

"Tell me about it," Lex mumbled, and then he was asleep.

Tony tiptoed out of the office to Julia.  "How much?"

"Two point one billion dollars," she said.  "He practically gave it away."

"Does he still have LexCorp?" Tony had been afraid to ask as Lex had grown more drawn and shadowed as the day wore on.

"He does, but he put out some feelers on that, too."

Tony really hoped it didn't come to that.  Not that he didn't, after today, have complete faith that Lex would still end up as rich as Croesus, but he'd rather the man didn't completely bankrupt himself.  But, if he did, Tony would put him up at his place and float the guy a loan.  Tony suspected he'd get it back quickly with interest.

"Maybe you should take a nap, too," Tony suggested.  "I can watch your phone, too."  He held up Lex's phone to show it was being babysat.  "Lex says this could go on all night, even after we leave."

She nodded.  Tony had recently taken a short nap, and he felt okay for the moment.  He'd gone longer than this on a stakeout, and he'd get through the night fine on little catnaps. 

"I think I will," Julia said.  "I suppose Lex is on the couch?"

"Best couch I ever slept on," Tony said with a smile.

"I'll go up to the penthouse," she said.  She opened a drawer and pulled out a pass.  "This will get you up there.  Just put it in the slot and keep it there while you hit the top button.  Please wake me once Lex is stirring."

"You got it."  He gestured over his shoulder at the conference room.  "How about those guys?" 

"Laura and Keith?"  She smiled.  "It takes something like this, doesn't it, to find out who's really loyal.  Go check on them, would you?  Now that we've been talking about it, if I don't lie down fast, I think I'll be asleep on the carpet."

"Go."

Julia left.

Tony walked to the conference room and opened the door.  Laura and Keith were both fast asleep on the sofas that lined the room.  He shut the door quietly and sat down at Julia's desk, her and Lex's phones in front of him.  Two point one billion.  Unbelievable.  He pulled his own phone out and put it next to the other two. 

He really wanted to talk to Gibbs.

No, he corrected, he wanted to talk to Gibbs and have the conversation Tony wanted.  Instead, what would happen is he'd get Gibbs on the phone, and Gibbs would be the Gibbs Tony had run from.  He'd be angry and belittling, and maybe that would be a good thing, because it would remind Tony of why he was avoiding the man.

He turned the phone on.  Before he could even decide if and who he was going to call, his phone rang.  He read Abby's name on the screen.  "Hey, Abs," he said.

"Tony!" she shrieked into his ear.

Wincing, he pulled the phone away.  "Tone it down, there, girlfriend."

"Sorry, sorry, but I've been so worried."

"Why?  You talked to me yesterday."

"I know, but I didn't know where you were.  Where are you?"

"In Metropolis."

"That's so cool.  What's it like?"

Seeing as all he'd seen of it was Lex's office suite and penthouse, he didn't have an awful lot to say.  But, for Abby, he’d give it his best shot.  "The skyline's awesome.  And the lights at night are amazing."  That was the truth.  Lex's office and his living room in the penthouse had the most amazing views of the city.  And the panoramic views of the city last night had been mesmerizing.

"Ducky said you were visiting someone named Martha?  Why don't I know anything about her?  I thought you told me everything."

Tony snickered.  "She's a cousin on my mom's side.  I haven't seen her in years, so thought it was time I dropped by."

"Is that who you're seeing in Metropolis?"

"You're Miss Curious Girl," Tony observed. 

"That's me," she said cheerily enough.

"No, she lives in Smallville."

"So, who's in Metropolis?"

Tony thought for a second and then decided to lie through his teeth.  "No one.  I was just so close I decided to come see the city."  He'd apologize to her later, when this whole thing was done.  If he told the truth, Abby would call out the National Guard.

"You are totally lying," she yelled.  "Are you with Lex Luthor?"

He rolled his eyes.  He should have expected her to trace Lex's number. 

"Yes," he said, "and yes, he's even sexier in person.  I've already offered him several blow jobs."

She screeched in his ear.  "You have not!"

"I so have."

"Gibbs will kill him!"

"What?" Tony asked, wondering how Gibbs had sneaked into the conversation.

"Never mind."

"I don't think so, Abs.  Now it's my turn to be McNosy.  What's going on?"

"Gibbs is looking for you."

"And?"

"He's on his way to Smallville, in fact, he's probably there now."

Tony was stunned into silence.  Why would Gibbs be in Smallville?

"He wants you back."

Tony was still stuck on the idea that Gibbs was coming after him.  Gibbs never went after anyone.  "I don't understand."

"He doesn't want you to quit."

"I already did."

"He wants you back.  He told me that.  He told Ducky that.  Didn't Ducky tell you that?"

"Yeah, he did, but--"

"But nothing," she interrupted.  "I remember what this place was like before you came, and I don't want it to get like that again.  Please come back."

Tony pinched the bridge of his nose.  "Abby.  That place was killing me."

"He'll be different.  I know he can be."

"I don't believe that."

One of the phones in front of him started to ring.

"I have to go, Abby."

"Wait."

"Really.  Sorry."  He hung up.

He answered Julia's phone.  "Julia Pachenko's phone."

"I was calling about the Warhol?"  Whoever was calling sounded very young and very valley.  Tony even thought he heard gum smacking.

"Which one?"  Tony pulled out the list of paintings.  "There are two up for sale.  Both are from his Death and Disaster Series, Purple Jumping Man and Orange Disaster.  Oh, and Chocolate Bunny."  What stupid names, he thought.

There was a shriek and she yelled, "Dad, he's got Chocolate Bunny!  Will you buy that one?"

Tony rubbed his ear, hoping that was the end of the shrieking.  A man got on the phone.  "How much?"

Five minutes later, Tony hung up the phone, having made Lex a few million dollars, well above the bottom asking price.  He added the amount to the bottom line.

His phone rang again, Abby's name appearing once again.  Tony shut the phone off, and answered Lex's phone this time when it rang.

* * *

**Metropolis:**

**6:30 pm**

Gibbs pulled into the parking lot of a Safeway on the outskirts of Metropolis.  He closed his eyes and wondered what the hell he was supposed to do now.

Just that second his phone rang and he flipped it open.

"I know where he is!" Abby crowed.  "I just called him, and he answered his phone."  Her voice darkened.  "Then he hung up on me, and now he's not answering, but it doesn't matter, well, it does, because Tony never hangs up on me, but--"

"Abby."

"Got it, sorry.  Okay, he's at LuthorCorp headquarters.  With Lex Luthor," she added.

She made that sound ominous, but Gibbs paid no attention.  "Give me the address."

As she rattled it off, he punched it into his GPS.

"It's a big building, Gibbs."

"I'll find him."

"He said he wasn't coming back."

"He'll change his mind."

"He says he won't," Abby wailed.

"He will."

"He says he and Lex have been exchanging blow jobs."

Gibbs saw red for a long second, squeezing the phone so hard in his hand, he was surprised it didn't crack.  He was going to find Tony, and then he was going to kill Lex Luthor. 

"You can't kill him, Gibbs.  It's not like people won't notice if Lex Luthor goes missing."

It was scary how well Abby knew him.  "I have to go."

"I don't have enough money to bail you out of jail for something like that," she said.  "And Tony might be mad if you kill his new boy toy.  I don't think he'll believe you mean to change if you do something like that."

"I won't kill him, Abby."  Yet, he added silently.

"Okay.  Call me later.  I mean it.  I'll worry."

"I'll do my best."  He flipped the phone shut before she could extract any real promises from him.  He pressed the guide button on the navigation system, and started driving to LuthorCorp.

He arrived there twenty minutes later and parked in the LuthorCorp garage.  Five minutes later he was in the lobby.  He stopped at the information desk.  "I need to see Lex Luthor," he announced.

The security guard gave him a once over.  "Is he expecting you?"

"No," Gibbs said.

"Name?"

"Special Agent Jethro Gibbs."

He looked at a list in front of him.  "Sorry, you're not on the list."

Gibbs thought about the repercussions of what he was about to do, but he was sleepy and angry, and damn sure he wasn't leaving this building without seeing Tony.  "Perhaps I didn't make myself clear," he said, pulling out his badge.  "I need to see Lex Luthor."

Sighing, as if being asked to actually do some work on an early Saturday evening was beyond the pale, the guard picked up the phone.  When someone answered, he said, "Trouble in the lobby." 

Perhaps, Gibbs thought, as two armed men walked through an unmarked door, heading right for him, he should have thought this through a little better.

He was taken to a small conference room and asked to sit down.  Gibbs sat.

"I'm Mark Hudson," one of the men said.  "I'm head of Lex Luthor's security.  May I see your badge?"

"I don't think so," Gibbs said.

"From that I assume you are not actually here on official business?"

"I'm looking for one of my agents, Anthony DiNozzo."

"I’m familiar with him," Hudson said.

"I want to see him."

"From what I understand he isn't one of your agents anymore," Hudson said, looking like he had no intention of calling anyone.

He was good, Gibbs thought.  He wondered briefly if he'd be interested in a career at NCIS.  "He is."

"In fact, he isn't.  He works for me, now."

Gibbs clenched his hands tightly on his thighs, forcing himself to keep it together.  Losing it here would only get him ejected from the building on his ass.  "I need to speak with him.  This has all been a misunderstanding."

"I'll see if he's willing to speak with you," Hudson said.  He stood and spoke quietly to the remaining man.  After he left, a second man entered the room, both of them watching Gibbs.

Gibbs let his head drop.  "Fuck," he said softly.

* * *

**Metropolis:**

**Saturday 7:30 pm**

"You clean up nice," Lex said admiringly.  While Tony had a point that Clark could make flannel look good, there was something about a well-dressed man that got Lex all hot and bothered.

"Don't I?" Tony preened.  "You're not so bad yourself."

Lex wished the two of them were simply going out for a night on the town.  They'd drop jaws everywhere they went.  "You ready for this?"

"Not really," Tony said, the grin dropping off his face.  "Jesus, Lex, I think I might throw up."

"Just don't throw up on me."  Lex sat at his desk, his fingers on the keyboard, waiting for the right time.  At the stroke of 7:30, he clicked on a link.  He quickly wrote the address down.  "We'll need to take the helicopter.  I know the limo could get us there, but I don't want to take the chance of hitting bad traffic."

Julia entered the office with large cups of coffee for them. 

"You're a lifesaver," Lex told her with a soft smile.  "I don't know how I would have gotten through today without you.  Without the two of you."

Julia kissed him on the cheek.  "Just get Clark back.  I'll be here all night until you tell me it's done."

"If I have any money by the time this is over," Lex told her, "expect an eye-popping bonus."

"You haven't sold the Maui property yet.  Maybe you could just send me there for a couple of weeks for a vacation," she said, her dimples showing.

If she were thirty years younger, Lex would have married her that instant.  He was still tempted.  "If it doesn't sell, consider the house yours."

"Just for two weeks."

"Whenever you want it," he countered.

"You drive a hard bargain."  She tapped her ear piece.  "The helicopter's ready."

Lex looked at Tony.  Mark Hudson wasn't too pleased Tony was the one accompanying him tonight, but apparently he'd been somewhat mollified by Tony's credentials.  Tony had several weapons on him, all but his main weapon supplied by Mark, and he had memorized the locations of several safe places to secure Lex if things got too hot.  Lex sincerely hoped Tony didn't need to use any of that information. 

"Let's go."

Mark Hudson entered the room.  "There's a Special Agent Jethro Gibbs here to see you, Tony.  Do you want to see him?"

"Hell, no," Tony said, grateful he’d gotten a head’s up from Abby.  Dealing with Gibbs now was the last thing he needed.  Besides, the clock was ticking.  "Tell him--nah, forget it.  You ready?" he asked Lex.

"As I'll ever be."

Lex put his hand on Mark's shoulder.  "Thanks.  Rich will keep you apprised of our location.”

The two men strode out of the door.

* * *

Hudson entered the small conference room where Gibbs was growing homicidal.  He picked up the remote and the large TV screen turned on.  In a few seconds Gibbs was staring at Tony and Lex.  Both men were dressed to kill and clearly heading out.  Tony looked good, really good, and Gibbs could have stared at him for a long time.

Hudson was there, too, and he said, "There's a Special Agent Jethro Gibbs here to see you, Tony.  Do you want to see him?" 

"Hell, no," Tony said.  "Tell him--nah, forget it.  You ready?" he asked Lex.

The tape shut off.  "He doesn't want to see you," Hudson said, as if the tape hadn't made that message painfully clear. 

Tony's glib answer stung.  "Where are they going?"

"Do you really expect me to tell you that?"

"Then let me go."

"In a minute."

"What are we waiting for?" Gibbs demanded impatiently.

"For the helicopter to get out of sight." 

Damn it, Gibbs thought.  He had entertained a brief hope that maybe he could follow them.

"It's clear," Hudson said a few moments later.  "You can go.  Can you find the door by yourself?"

Gibbs wanted to punch the man so badly his fingers were already in a fist.  He stood.  "Yes, I can."

Hudson opened the door, allowing Gibbs to leave first.  All three security men stood in the lobby watching.  Once outside, he glanced up at the sky, but there wasn't a helicopter in sight.  "What the hell are you up to, DiNozzo," he asked.  How the hell did he know Luthor?  And where were they going?  They'd been dressed for a night out, but Gibbs hadn't missed the tight set of Tony's shoulders or the dark circles under his eyes.  Something stank about this whole thing.

He suddenly realized that he needed to get back into the building to get his car.  Pushing the door to the lobby open, he said, "I need my car."

Hudson gestured at one of his men.  "Miller will be glad to escort you to your vehicle."

"I don't need an escort," Gibbs snapped.  "I can find my own damn car."

"Nevertheless," Hudson said.  "Miller will escort you to your car."

Gibbs couldn't fault them for their thoroughness, even if he wished them all to hell.  He fumed the entire way to his car.  He almost shot the person at the gatehouse when he was informed he owed fifteen dollars for the privilege of parking there.

His blood pressure rising, Gibbs handed over a twenty, pocketing the five when he was handed the change.  The gate lifted, and Gibbs found himself back on the street with no idea where to go, except back to DC.  He wasn't anywhere near ready to give up yet.

Gibbs pulled over and flipped open his phone, calling Abby. 

"Did you find him?" she asked.

"Not yet.  Can you track Lex Luthor's phone?"  Tony maybe had his shut off, but Gibbs bet Luthor never shut his off.

"You think they're together?"

"I know they're together," Gibbs said.

"So you did find him?"

"No, I saw him.  Big difference.  But they got away before I could follow them."

"Okay, I got him.  He's moving really fast."

"They're in a helicopter."

"Cool!  I guess Tony really found himself a sugar daddy, didn't he?"  There was a pause on both sides of the conversation.  "Sorry about that."

"Where is he heading?" Gibbs said, determined not to bite Abby's head off.

"West."

Gibbs did the same.  "Tell me when to turn."

"I can't, Gibbs, not until they stop moving.  If they turn left, and I tell you to turn left, you could drive into a river or something."

"Then tell me when they get to where they're going and meanwhile, keep me moving in the right direction."

"I will.  Did he look okay?"

"Abby, he's just in Metropolis.  It's not like he's been lost at sea."

"I know, but I miss him already."

Gibbs could relate.  He drove a little further, and then realized his eyes were closing.  He pulled over again.  "Abby, I have to close my eyes.  Call me with an address when you have one."

"I will.  Are you someplace safe?"

Wouldn't that just be his luck, to be a victim of a carjacking.  He started the car back up and drove until he found a large shopping area.  He pulled in and stopped under a lamppost.  "I'm good."  He hung up and closed his eyes.

* * *

**Saturday 8 pm:**

"Here," Lex told the pilot through the headset.

The pilot nodded and set down on a small patch of cement.

"We're early," Lex said.

"Do we wait?" Tony asked.

Lex peered around.  "They usually come thirty minutes early, but they won't appear until our ride's gone."

"They're pretty paranoid, aren't they?"

"Excessively," Lex agreed.  "It's why they're still in business."  He unbuckled his seatbelt and waited for Tony to do the same.  "Let's go."

The pilot frowned at them.  "I’m not crazy about leaving you here."

"I'll be fine, Rich.  You've done this before."

"I know," Rich said, "but tonight seems different."

"We'll be fine," Lex said again.  "They won't arrive until you leave."  He jumped down and moved to make room for Tony.  Once Tony was on the ground, Lex slapped the side of the helicopter, and with another frown, the pilot took off.

Once the helicopter was gone, a black car came into view.

"So, we just get in?"  Tony was combing his hair with his fingers trying to recover from the wind from the helicopter. 

"Yes," Lex said, opening the door and sliding through to the other side.

Tony followed him, thinking this was the weirdest freaking thing he'd ever done.

"Come here," Lex said, pushing Tony's hands away.  He played with Tony's hair for a minute.  "There."

Tony had no choice but to trust him.  On one hand, considering how good the man looked, he trusted that Lex knew what looked good.  On the other hand, the man had no hair. 

"You look fine," Lex reassured him.  "I'm hardly going to take you in looking like a clown.

"Where--"

Lex put up a hand to shush him.

Tony nodded and sat back.  It didn't take long for the inactivity and the silent ride to knock him out.  He had no idea how long he slept, but the car was stopped and voices woke him up.  "Mr. Luthor, your phone is being traced."

"Not because of me," Lex said, handing it over to the driver.  "Do what you have to."

"Fuck," Tony said.  "It's probably Abby.  Damn it.  Will they give you your phone back?"  Tony wasn't sure what he'd do if Abby's nosiness got Lex kicked out of the auction.

Lex didn't say anything, and Tony shut his mouth, his heart in his throat.  Even if they gave it back, they might not let Lex use it, and he wouldn't be able to raise more money.

"Here you go," the driver said, handing it back.  The car started its forward momentum again.

"That's it?" Tony asked, not believing it could be that simple.

"That's it," Lex said.  "They jammed it from being traced."

"And you can still get called?"

"I can still get called."

Tony closed his eyes in relief.  "They don't worry that you're up to something?" he asked softly.

Lex rolled his eyes.  "It doesn't matter.  If I was up to something, I've been foiled, and if I'm not up to something, whoever it was has been stopped.  Isn't Abby who you spoke to yesterday?"

"Yes.  She's probably trying to find me for Gibbs."

"He's persistent, isn't he?"

"Yeah, and I have no idea why."  Hopefully with Abby off the case, Gibbs would give it a rest.  The last thing they needed was Gibbs barging into any of the evening's activities.  Clark would disappear and they'd lose their chance to get him back.

"Maybe you should talk to him."

"Maybe later," Tony said. 

That was the end of the conversation, and eventually they pulled into an industrial park.  Tony watched as they drove by warehouse after warehouse.  He found his fingers touching his arm from when he'd been shot the last time he was someplace like this.  Finally the car stopped. 

Tony reached for the door handle, but Lex stopped him.  "Wait."

Withdrawing his hand, feeling like he was Michael Douglas in The Game, Tony waited.

About five minutes passed, then the door unlocked.

"Now."

Tony opened the car door only to find a door to the building open and waiting for them.  He entered, and they were escorted to a small room.  Tony and Lex were expertly searched, all his weapons accounted for, but left in place.

At exactly 8:45, a beautiful woman in a tight ankle-length green dress with slits up to her shapely thighs came into the room.  "I'll escort you to your booth."

Both men followed her, and Tony found himself taken to a booth that looked a lot like a sky box at a professional game.  The woman smiled at them, told Lex she was number seven, whatever that meant, and left.  Lex locked the door behind her.

The front of the box was glass, although Tony could tell it was the same sort of one-way glass they used in their interrogation rooms.  "Can't they see us if the lights are on?"

"No," Lex said. 

"How do you know?"

"Can you see into anyone else's box?"

Tony looked and saw eleven other boxes.  He could see faint shadows with movement, but nothing else.  The box overlooked a large area currently sealed off from view by a heavy curtain.  It made Tony's heart ache that Clark was this close, maybe hurt, certainly scared, and totally out of their reach. 

Their room, which Tony guessed would be similar to all the other ones, was divided into two sections.  The one they were in was where the bidding occurred.  He and Lex were sitting on Herman Miller Aeron chairs.  They were surrounded by three long counters, all made from high-end granite.  One faced the window, and was covered with computers with large flat-screened monitors.  The back counter had a dozen phones on it.  The third counter was empty but for paper and pencils, except on top of it rested a huge high-definition monitor, one Tony would have swooned to have in his house.  There were several clocks above the monitor depicting times around the world.

The other section held a large couch and a coffee table where bottles of Tynant water were chilling in an ice bucket.  Two crystal glasses were on a tray, along with a selection of sushi and other appetizers.  There was a door to the right of the couch, and Tony assumed it was a bathroom.  "Wow," Tony said.  The room was spotless and tastefully done.

"Considering how much they stand to make tonight, they can afford a little sushi," Lex said dryly.

"Can they hear everything we say?" Tony asked.

"Yes, and see us.  But, don't worry about it.  They've seen it all.  And knowing that I know Clark won't stop them from continuing the auction.  They'll just see it as extra incentive for me to spend more money."

"What did that woman mean when she told you she was number seven?"

"They provide hookers for our entertainment when bids are taking a long time."

Tony was gaping again.  He shut his mouth, embarrassed at how inexperienced he felt.  He was usually comfortable around money, but this--this was beyond anything.

"Don't feel bad.  I looked just like you the first time I came here.  I'm sure they were all having a good laugh at my expense."

"Hookers?"

"Males or females, so if you get the urge, help yourself."

"I'll pass, thanks.  Did you ever?"

"Absolutely," Lex said.  "They're all exquisite.  And on the house.  As is anything else we want to eat or drink."

"I’m speechless," Tony said.  "By the way, they didn't do to my phone whatever they did to your phone."

"Yes, they did," Lex said.  "Mine was already being traced, so they had to disable it for a moment, but every phone here has been jammed to prevent tracing."

"Wow."  Tony could feel the goofy grin on his face.  "Sorry.  I know I'm not here to enjoy myself, but this is kind of cool."

Lex grinned back.  "I'll bring you here one night when they're not selling something I care about so much."

There was a knock on the door.  Lex unlocked it, and a dark haired, middle-eastern man walked in.  Tony noticed that he was wearing very sheer latex gloves.  "Agent DiNozzo?"

"Not any more."

"You were up until yesterday."

"I know.  I sent my notice in yesterday morning.  I quit.  I work for Lex now."

"May I ask the reason why you quit?"

"I'm head over heels in love with my ex-boss.  He's a man.  He's a Marine, and he's an asshole.  I'll let you do the math." 

"Ah," the man said.  "And who is tracking you down on Mr. Luthor's phone?"

"For some reason, my ex-boss is looking for me.  And our forensics tech who works at NCIS is helping him track me.  He managed to get as far as Lex's company before we had to leave to come here.  I sent a message that I wasn't interested in speaking with him, but like I said, he's an asshole.  He doesn't believe in a reality where he doesn't get what he wants."

"If what he wants is you, perhaps you should allow yourself to be caught," the man suggested.

"He's not chasing me for that, trust me.  In fact, I have no idea what the hell he wants.  I think he's taken it as a personal affront that I quit."

"May I see your phone?"

"Hell, you can have it," Tony said.  "Probably time for me to get a new one."

"That won't be necessary.  I shall return with it shortly."  He let himself out, and Lex locked the door behind him.

"You really head over heels?"

"Like some heroine in a bodice ripper.  I disgust even myself."

Lex laughed out loud.  "Why'd you keep offering me blow jobs?"

"It's not like he's ever going to want one and besides, you are one sexy man, Lex," Tony told him honestly.  "I'm sick of pining for him.  It's killing me.  I was like a beggar on the street with my cup out looking for a handout."  Tony shivered all over.  "I can't go back.  I'll just start doing it again."

"Then don't.  Stay and work for me."

"You got it," Tony said.  "Thanks.  And if you ever see me acting like that with anyone, please, kick me."

"I will.  Although, I have to warn you that I tend to engage in a somewhat similar behavior, so I'm not sure I'm the best one for the job."

"Clark?"

"Not so much Clark.  He and I were close.  But his parents, certainly.  And my father."  Lex shook his head.  "So, please return the favor, and let me know when I'm making a fool out of myself."

Tony got up and filled the crystal glasses with water and brought them over.  He handed one to Lex.  "Here's to never letting anyone push us around again," he said, clinking Lex's glass.

"Hear, hear," Lex said.  He glanced at his watch.

Tony glanced at the wall.  "When will things start?"

"At nine."

Five minutes.

* * *

**Saturday 8:56**

"What do you mean you lost the signal?"

"Just what I said," Abby told him.  "I lost the signal.  I can tell you where I lost it, but that's it."

Gibbs slammed his hand down on the steering wheel.  "Damn it."

"I'll keep trying, Gibbs, but I got nothing.  I'm sorry."

"Not your fault, Abs," Gibbs said.  And it wasn't.  She was the best there was.  Although, she and McGee together were sometimes better.  "Could McGee help?"

"Are you saying I'm not good enough?"

"No, I'm saying the two of you together can sometimes be better."

"You really want him to know you're looking for Tony in Metropolis?" she asked cautiously.

That was a good question.  The hell with it.  In for a penny.  "If it will help me find Tony, then yes."

"I'll try to find him.  I'll call you back."  This time she disconnected.

Gibbs slowly shut the phone and closed his eyes.  They snapped back open at the thought of Tony and Lex giving each other blow jobs.  Not that Lex wasn't a better choice for Tony than Gibbs.  Although, ironically, the age difference between Tony and Lex was greater than between Gibbs and Tony.  And when the fuck did this whole thing turn into retrieving a potential lover instead of retrieving a senior agent gone AWOL?  Gibbs needed to have his head examined.

He started driving again, looking for a coffee house.

* * *

**Saturday 9 pm**

A voice came over a loudspeaker in the room.  "Submit the minimum bid."

Lex started pressing keys and, in less than a minute, pushed enter.  "The first time I did this, I was so nervous, I sent them ten times too much money," Lex confessed.

"All bids in," the voice said.  "Best of luck to you all."

The curtain was lifted, and any hope Lex had that this wasn't about Clark was stripped away in an instant.  He was standing there, although weaving would be a better description, meteor rocks secured around his ankles.  He was naked.  And miserable.  And scared.

Lex jumped to his feet and punched the window.  "I'm going to fucking kill someone!"

"Just win," Tony said tightly.

Lex looked at him and saw that Tony was as furious as he was.  "Fuck," he said.  He sat down and covered his face with his hands.  "Clark."

He heard Tony's chair move and felt arms wrap around him. 

Lex stole a moment of comfort, glad he wasn't alone, not sure he wouldn't have tried to shoot out the window if he had been, only to be escorted off the property for his trouble.  He finally pulled back, hardly able to bear looking at Clark again.  "I'm okay."

"Yeah, I kind of doubt that, but you're better," Tony told him.

It was brutal sitting there, helpless to watch as Clark almost fell several times, to watch as hands, other than his, turned him around, like a piece of meat.  Lex wanted to go to him worse than anything he'd ever wanted in his life.  He wanted to take him someplace safe where no one could ever hurt him or touch him again.

A voice filled the box.  For the next thirty minutes Lex had to listen to someone tell Clark's story.  Tapes were shown of his powers.  His spaceship was brought on stage, along with a disk Lex knew nothing about.  All of it played on the huge monitor behind them, as well as the computers in front of him, but Lex didn't even look. 

All Lex had eyes for was Clark.  His friend's eyes were dark with misery and hopelessness, and Lex was filled with a fury he had no outlet for.  

The voice continued, like some radio announcer, letting them know about the meteor rocks, how they controlled him.  How he was harmless when surrounded by them, so whoever won him would have the means of controlling the most powerful man in the world.  An alien of their very own.  More tapes were played of Clark pounding in fence posts with one hand, lifting a tractor, stopping an out of control bus with one hand.  Lex found himself incensed with Clark for being so indiscreet.

Clark, unable to stand any longer, sank to the ground, trying to cover his nakedness as best he could with his legs, his head hanging.

Now, on the screen, came pictures of Clark when he wasn't incapacitated by meteor rocks.  There was no denying the beauty of the man, and Lex knew everyone in that room was watching Clark, too many of them imagining him in ways that made Lex feel dirty, especially as he wanted Clark the same way.

The voice continued with CT scans and medical information, and an assurance of virginity.  Lex looked at Tony to find him staring, aghast, at the production in front of him, tears in his eyes.  Lex grabbed his hand, and the two of them held onto each other to help them get through this.

A question mark showed up on one of the computer screens.  "What's that?" Tony asked.

"One of the bidders wants to ask a question," Lex said.  "We'll be able to read anything that anyone says into that microphone when that button is pushed."  He pointed at the microphone sitting in the middle of the bank of computers, and the large 'speak' button sitting next to it.  "All the answers will appear as well.  That way they can be referred to later if answers are forgotten."

"Can Clark hear the questions?"

"Yes, although our voices are distorted."

They waited for the question, although the look on Clark's face, the way his body jerked as if away from the question, already told Lex it wasn't a good one.

The question read: How do we know he is safe to fuck?

The answer, a short time later, read: Do you require a demonstration?

Lex quickly moved to the microphone.  "No," he said clearly into the microphone.  "I have no desire to purchase used goods."  He swallowed the acid in his throat at what his words would imply to the other bidders, of what Clark would think when he heard them.

His answer scrolled across the screen thirty seconds later.

"Please," Lex said quietly to the computer, to the nameless men and women in the other boxes.  He could be outvoted on this.

"Lex," Tony said.  "He knows it's you."

Lex looked up, and Clark was staring at their box, hope blazing in his eyes.  Lex looked at the computer and sagged in relief.  Of the eleven people bidding, three wished for a demonstration, but eight did not.  "Thank you, Jesus," Lex said, blowing out a beyond-relieved breath.

"Christ," Tony said.  "I'm going to have a heart attack.  How did he know it was you?"

"I don't know, but I'm glad." 

Another request scrolled across the screen: I wish a closer look at the spaceship.

The spaceship appeared on screen as a still, allowing the people in the boxes to zoom to their hearts content.

The first bid went in.  "Fuck," Lex said.  It was for a billion dollars.  First bid of the night, and he was already at almost half his reserve.

Lex took a jump drive out of his pocket and put it in a USB port of the computer to his right.  In seconds he had his spreadsheet open. 

"It's a billion dollars already?" Tony said. 

"I know.  Either that bid's an attempt to push people out of the race quickly, or whoever's bidding has more money than all of us put together."  He pointed at another computer screen that showed eleven boxes.  "Look."  Three of the boxes vanished.  "That's three down."

"Seven more to go," Tony said grimly.

The next bid came in at one point three billion.

Lex just waited.  If he bid now, it would just put the price up.  He'd wait until it was down to two of them, hoping like hell he was still in the running by then.  The problem was that Clark was a triple whammy.  He was a gorgeous boy with a stunning body, he was an alien, and he came with a spaceship and alien toys.  Three reasons to want him.  Three reasons not to give him up.

The next bid came in at one point six billion.

* * *

Tony wasn't kidding about having a heart attack.  Lex had less than one billion dollars left.  Not that Tony could wrap his mind around that much money. 

Lex's phone rang, and he pulled it off his belt.  He looked at the screen, and Tony could see the look of disgust that flashed on his face.  He closed his eyes as if girding his loins before answering. 

"Victoria," Lex said, oozing sex.

Even pretending, Lex had a very sexy voice, and Tony grew warm listening to it.  He could tell they had history, and he could also tell that Lex couldn't stand her.

He tuned the conversation out, focusing back on Clark.  Clark was still staring up at the booth.  Tony hoped he didn't lose hope when he didn't hear any bids coming from them.  He understood Lex's strategy.  They didn't exactly have money to burn.  But Tony wished he could send Clark a note, or whisper in his ear that they were there.  He wondered how Clark had known it was Lex.  For a startling moment, Tony knew, if he was the one sitting down there in Clark's place, that he'd have recognized Gibbs immediately if he was here bidding. 

He saw another box go dark. 

Six more to go.  "Hang in there, Clark," Tony whispered.

"Do you want Cadmus Labs back or not?" Lex asked tightly.

She must have asked how much he was selling it for as he next said, "750 million dollars."

Lex's mouth tightened, his eyes bleak, and Tony watched as Lex pulled himself together, doing everything he could not to let the desperate situation reflect in his voice.  "Yes or no, Victoria.  Or feel free to throw an offer on the table, and I'll see if it bores me."

He was good, Tony thought, not for the first time.  He'd put him up against Gibbs in a celebrity death match.  Gibbs might be stronger, but Lex was sneaky as all hell.

"That's a ridiculous price," Lex said, although his eyes said otherwise.  650 million, or 600 million if you wire the funds tonight.  I have some shopping to do."

Lex laughed as if Victoria had just told the funniest joke.  "Once I've secured the property I'm interested in, I'll be sure to include you in the possible list of investors.  You won't be sorry."  Lex wheeled back to the first computer from which he'd wired his opening bid.

Tony watched, as if by magic, the amount there increased by 600 million.

"I'll call you next week," Lex said huskily, then disconnected.  "Fucking bitch.  Thank God she's an idiot."

Their total had just gone up to 1.5 billion.  Then, a few seconds later, it went up close to another million dollars.  "Julia's hard at work," Tony observed.

Lex took a sip of water and stared out the observation window at Clark.

An hour passed.  Lex looked like he'd gone ten rounds with George Foreman and lost.  When George was boxing, not now as the infomercial king.  "Why don't you take a break?" he asked Lex.  No more bids had come in yet.

Lex shook his head.  "He can't take a break.  I figure it's the least I can do to stand here with him."

Another bid came in: 1.8 billion.   

Another one came right after.  Two billion.

"Fuck," Lex said.

Another million dropped into Lex's account. 

Two more lights dropped out. 

"Four to go," said Tony.  "How do you know that those people dropping out now won't go after Clark?  I mean, if someone else won, I could understand it, because they'd have no idea where he is.  But if you win, and you take him home, anyone could just come and take him again.  All they need is some meteor rock.  And it's not like they'd care about hurting anyone."

Lex just shook his head.  "I can't deal with that now.  One mammoth problem at a time, please."  There was a pause.  "Then again, I could assign you to him to be his bodyguard."

"I could do that," Tony said.  "Except I'm not sure how well I'll fit in at high school.  I may look young for my age, but not that young."

"High school," Lex said with a scoff.  "That place is a waste of time for him.  We'll find somewhere safer and better."

"You really think Jonathan's going to let you make decisions about Clark?"

"Tony."

"Shutting up now."

"Thank you."

"Gibbs just smacks me in the back of the head, like this."  Tony said helpfully, demonstrating lightly on the back of Lex's head.

Lex smacked Tony on the back of his head.  Tony grinned at him.  Lex rolled his eyes.

The time passed agonizingly slowly.  Tony glanced at his watch.  It was almost midnight, and it had been almost ninety minutes since that last bid.  He wondered what the state of the world economy would be like come Monday morning, imagining all the businesses being chopped up and sold like so much liver in the four remaining boxes.

At the stroke of midnight another bid came through: 2.5 billion.

Lex closed his eyes. 

Tony looked at Lex's bank account.  With the extra money occasionally being deposited, he was down to $850,000 over the current bid.  Two more lights blinked out.  "Two to go," Tony said.

"The two with the most money," Lex said with a note of despair.  "How will I live with myself if I don't win?" he asked Tony.  "How will I be able to get up and walk out of here, knowing I've lost Clark to a life of slavery?" Tony had no answers for him. 

The next bid came quickly: 3 billion.

That left Lex with 350 million dollars.  Another half billion price increase would shut them out. 

Another bid came shortly: 3.25 billion.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Lex said.  "They're going to outbid me."

Lex's phone rang.  He took a quick look, and then put it on speaker phone.  "Bruce."

"Lex, what's going on?"

Tony would recognize that voice anywhere.  Bruce Wayne.  Gotham City's reining billionaire.

"I don't have time to go into it now, Bruce, and I know I'm putting all my cards on the table, but I need money, and I need it fast."

Tony wondered at Lex's honesty; what he thought to gain from it.

"So, you're selling LexCorp?  That's your baby, Lex."

Tony's eyes shot to Lex, to his strained face.  "I know.  I'm out of options."

"Talk to me."

"Bruce, I just need an answer.  I'm almost out of time."

"Not until you talk to me."

"I'm at the auction.  They've got… Bruce, they have Clark."

"How the fuck did that happen?"

"I'll fill you in later.  But, I'm almost out of money, and I can't lose.  So, tell me if you want it.  You've been after LexCorp almost as soon as it started making money, so here's your chance."

"I don't want it this way."

"Then loan me the money," Lex bit out, "and take it with a hostile takeover on Monday."

"I don't want it that way, either."

"Bruce, I'm begging you here.  And I don't ever beg."

Tony moved close, wanting to be near, wanting to give Lex any damn thing he wanted if it would help.

The next bid came through: 3.4 billion.  Lex was out of money.

Lex let out a sob that he quickly choked off.  "Bruce."

"How much do you need?"

"Whatever you can send me right now.  I'll pay you back, I promise, every penny.  And you can have LexCorp.  I'll start a new company.  Jesus, I'll come work for you until I pay you back with interest."

"Let me talk to Alfred.  I'll call you back."  Bruce hung up.

Lex gagged, and Tony got a wastebasket in front of him in time for Lex to throw up in it.  "Jesus Christ.  Oh, God."  He stood, shaking. 

Tony got up and yanked him into a hug.  He was shaking, too, and his throat was so tight he could barely swallow.  "You'll find him, Lex.  Even if someone takes him.  You'll find him.  I'll help you.  No matter what it takes.  I promise."  He didn't know how he'd face Martha. 

Lex's phone rang again.  "Bruce?"

Tony was close enough to hear.

"Give me your account number," Bruce demanded.  "And don't ever whine at me again that I never give you anything.  I expect this all back along with a patent or two.  And don't you dare find a sneaky underhanded way to give me LexCorp.  What the hell would I do with a company named after you?"

Lex shakily told him the account number.

"When this is done, I want to meet Clark," Bruce said, and hung up. 

With bated breath, Lex and Tony stared at the screen.  An unbelievable amount of numbers began to scroll on Lex's screen.  500 million, 1 billion, 1.5 billion, 2 billion, 3 billion dollars.  The numbers stopped scrolling.

Lex covered his mouth, staring at the screen.

"I guess you better make sure he's on your Christmas list," Tony said in awe.

Lex half laughed, half cried, as he sat down in front of the microphone.  "3.5 billion," he said.

In a few seconds, the computer showed his bid, asking him to confirm.  Lex hit the confirm button, and it went out to all the bidders.  Another box went out.

"One left," Tony said.  It was so much easier to say when they still had almost 3 billion sitting in the bank.  "Why did he have so much money hanging around?"

"Bruce is kind of weird," Lex said.  "I'll introduce you sometime."

"How do you know him?"

"Many years of expensive private schools."

"He must think the world of you to just hand over that much money."

"He's a good friend."  He glanced at the computer.  "The best.  Jesus, he's going to give me shit about this until the day I die."

Lex looked like he could handle it, and Tony suspected if he had Clark by his side, that Lex would take all the razzing Bruce could dish out.  "It sounded like he knew about Clark." 

"He did."  Lex must have seen Tony's instantaneous angry response, because he put a hand on Tony's knee.  "Please, trust me.  Clark was never in any danger from Bruce.  I'll explain later."

Tony relaxed, ashamed he'd been so quick to jump to conclusions.  "I'm sorry." 

The next bid came in: 3.6 billion.

Lex immediately raised to 3.7 billion.

Another one: 3.8 billion.

Lex raised to 3.9 billion.

Another one: 3.95 billion.

Lex grinned.  He raised to 3.96 billion.  "I can play this game all night.  He's running scared."  The grin left his face as he stared down.  "I wonder…"  He spoke into the microphone.  "I request the subject be allowed to get dressed."

The question showed up on the computer, and Tony wondered if the other bidder would object just on principle.  But, to his surprise and relief, there was no objection.  Clothes were brought out to Clark, and he slowly dressed himself.  A chair was brought out for him as well, and he was handed a glass of water.  Clark sank down on the chair, and he took a shaky sip of water, his eyes shining as he stared up at Lex's booth.

"Okay," Lex said.  "Now I can eat something."  He grabbed the tray of sushi and pushed a computer to the side to make room for it.  He popped some tuna tataki into his mouth.

Tony went for the Kobe steak.  "This is good."  He couldn't believe how much better he felt now that Clark was wearing clothes and sitting on a chair.  He knew they'd won; he could feel it.  The other guy was hanging on with nothing but grit, but Tony expected that light to go out at any time.  And then they'd get Clark back.  Tony wanted to give Clark a hug and call Martha, but even more he wanted to see Lex and Clark together.

On a whim, Tony wheeled over to Lex, grabbed the back of his neck, and pulled him in for a kiss.  Lex didn't lose a second, and Tony savored the taste of Lex combined with the exotic taste of sushi, and was sorry he wouldn't get a second chance to kiss him.  He made this one last as long as he could, but he finally pulled back. 

"Not that I'm complaining," Lex said, "but what was that for?"

"Because I'm guessing once Clark has you by his side, I'll never get within ten feet of you," Tony said with a laugh.  "He can't even see you, and he's eating you alive."

"I just kept him from getting sold and raped by who knows what," Lex said.  "He's grateful."

"Don't be stupid.  I can see it all over his face.  Don't you know he loves you?"

Lex put the piece of sushi he was about to eat back down on the tray.  "Yes, I do."

"And you love him, right?"

"You know I do."

"You think he's going to let you get your rocks off with someone else?"

Lex looked down at Clark.  "He's only sixteen."

"Yeah," Tony said, barking out a laugh.  "It's going to be a long two years.  Good luck with that." 

"Fuck you," Lex said with a grin.

"Besides, you think he'd let me be his bodyguard if he thought I was interested in you?  He probably has a super snozz, and he'll be able to tell when I'm turned on.  I thought I better get it out of my system now."

"One kiss and I'm out of your system?" Lex said, indignant.

"Not by a long shot, and if he's not interested in you that way, let me know, and I'm all yours," Tony said with a leer.

"Unless your ex-boss is chasing you with more in mind than just getting his agent back," Lex teased.

"Never happen," Tony said.

"But if he was?"

"I'd fuck his brains out and say Lex who?"

Lex smacked him on the back of his head.

"You do that almost the same as Gibbs," Tony observed longingly.  "Besides, it still won't work, because I'm staying here.  I work for you now, and I want in on all of this.  Gibbs will expect me to go back to DC."

"Maybe once he gets his hands on you, he'll talk you into it."

Tony shook his head.  "See that down there?" he said, pointing at Clark.  "I'm sticking around for that.  Besides, I think Martha may need me around.  She and Jonathan didn't exactly see eye-to-eye on the 'come to Lex for help plan'."

"He's going to be thrilled when I bring Clark back to him," Lex said sarcastically.  "And I will bet you a billion dollars, and you know I'm good for it, that Jonathan won't be willing to listen to a word I say."

"That's a sucker bet," Tony said.  "And I'm sorry about it.  I'll do my best to help, but he's a stubborn bastard."

"You don't have to tell me about it."

"Besides, I promise you Clark is going to take your side from now on."

"I don't want him to have to take sides," Lex said.  "I don't want to come between him and his father.  I never have."

"And that's why he'll choose your side.  Because you're a better man than his father is."

"He's bidding again."  Lex read the amount.  "3.97 billion."  He reached for the microphone.  "3.98 billion."  He let go of the speak button, saying, "I'm tempted to go for 4 billion and kick him off the playing field, but I'd just as soon give as much of this money back to Bruce unspent as possible."

Two million was added to Lex's account.

"I'm giving that two million right back to Julia," Lex said.

"She's awesome," Tony agreed.  "Reminds me of Abby, except Abby is younger, with tattoos all over her, and she wears huge biker boots and studded collars."

Lex raised his eyebrows. 

"I kid you not," Tony said.  "Maybe I should introduce her to Bruce.  She's kind of weird.  She sleeps in coffins."

"Like a vampire?" Lex asked, then he started to laugh.  "Oh, we totally need to introduce Abby to Bruce."

"Lex," Tony said, his heart thumping.  He smacked Lex's hand.  "Look."

The last light went out.  They won.  Lex had won.  Lex covered his face with his hands, his shoulders shaking for a long moment.  He wiped at his eyes and lifted his face.  Reaching for the microphone, he asked, "Please take your money and bring him up."

It took a few minutes, but finally there was a knock at the door.  Lex opened it and Clark was there with two men guarding him.  Clark still wore the meteor rocks.  "Get that shit off of him," Lex snapped.  "You know I don't need it."

One of the men snipped the ankle bracelets off with a sharp knife, picked up the meteor rocks, then stepped away.  "The ship will be waiting in the car," the other one said.  "Here."  He handed the disk to Lex.

Tony was watching Clark, who hadn't taken his eyes off of Lex.  Tony didn't think Clark even knew he was there.  Not that it mattered.  This had all been about Lex anyway; no way could Tony have done this. 

The men walked away, and Lex drew Clark into the room, shut the door and locked it.  He cupped Clark's face between his hands.  "Are you okay?"

Then Clark was wrapped around Lex and crying into his shoulder, and Lex just held him tightly until the storm passed.  Then Clark was kissing him, and Lex was kissing him back, and Tony sat back and enjoyed the show, and wondered how long it would take before Lex remembered he was there.

"You came for me," Clark said, between kisses.

"I'll always come for you," Lex promised him, kissing his jaw.

"I prayed that you would, but I didn't know if you knew I was even missing," Clark was biting Lex's lips.

"Your mother came to me, along with her cousin--"

Tony grinned.  "That would be me."

Clark looked over Lex's shoulder.  "Tony?"

Tony kept grinning.  "And still me."

Clark pulled back and stared at Lex, then at Tony, and back at Lex. Obviously deciding he didn't care what the story was, or how Tony came to be there with Lex, Clark just hugged Lex again.

"Can I call Martha?" Tony asked Lex.

"Let's wait until we're in the helicopter."

That was probably a good idea.  No point in jinxing themselves.  "Think I could get a hug?" Tony asked.

Clark came to him and hugged him.  It didn't last long, though, before Clark was back to hugging Lex.

"Let's get out of here," Lex said.  He was hanging on to Clark, as much as Clark was hanging on to him.  Tony wondered if he'd have to shoot Jonathan when they got back.  "But, first let me take care of one thing."

Lex sat down at the computer and did some typing.  Tony assumed Lex was sending Bruce back the remainder of his money.  Then he removed his jump drive and shut down the computer.  Clark had stayed plastered to his side the entire time.  Lex grabbed another piece of sushi and shoved it in Clark's mouth.  "When did you eat last?"

Clark chewed quickly, grimacing.  "I don't remember, and you know I don't like sushi." 

"You need to eat," Lex said.  "Here, eat the other stuff instead."  He handed Clark the other appetizers.   
"Gross," Clark said.  "This is like all that stuff they serve at your fundraisers."

Tony started to laugh.  "Just eat something, Clark.  Put Lex out of his misery."  He glanced at the tray.  "Eat that.  It's just cheese on a cracker."

"What kind of cheese?" Clark asked suspiciously.

"Brie, you'll like it," Lex said, shoving a cracker in Clark's mouth.

"That's good," Clark said happily, as he grabbed the rest.

Lex pushed him out of the room, heading toward the escort waiting for them at the end of the hall.  The three of them were led back to the door they had entered through, and then into the car that was waiting for them.  It was a limousine this time, and the reason for it was made clear when they found themselves making their way around the large bulky package taking up half the passenger space.  Lex peeked enough to ensure it was the spaceship.

Tony touched it.  "Wow.  What a weird, terrible, and wonderful, day this has been."  He sat down in the seat facing forward.

Lex sat down next to him.

Clark sat down on the seat facing backwards, and he reached for Lex, and pulled him from where he was sitting next to Tony until he was sitting next to him.

Tony grinned at Lex.  "Long two years," he said.

"Shut up," Lex said, even as he sat back against Clark, looking like a crane lift couldn't have moved him.  "Hey, are your powers back?"

"Not really," Clark said.  "I'm not as weak, but I really need to be out in the sun to recharge."

"Solar powered?" Lex asked him.

"Sort of.  I mean, they'll come back eventually, I hope, but the sun makes it happen faster."

"Clark, I'm sorry if anything I did led to this happening to you.  And I'll understand if you don't want to have anything else to do with me."

Clark shot Lex a look like Lex had gone completely insane.  "Lex, shut up."

Lex frowned at Clark, but he shut up.

Tony started laughing again.

Fifteen minutes later, the limousine pulled into an empty rest stop and the car came to a stop.  Tony inched over and opened the door.  "We just get out?"

"We just get out," Lex told him.  "Once the car is gone, I call Rich."

There was a loud crack and the driver's face blew off in an explosion of blood and brains. 

* * *

"Gibbs!" Abby yelled.  "I got Lex again.  I'm sending you the coordinates."

Gibbs put the car in drive, rubbing at his eyes.  At least he'd gotten another nap in.  He glanced at the clock and his eyes widened.  It was almost one in the morning.  He'd slept for hours.

He was closer than he expected, and almost thought about getting some coffee, but then he decided he was itching to smack Tony upside the head for leading him on such a merry chase.  He was approaching the area when he heard the sound of a rifle shot.

* * *

Tony had his gun out in an instant, handing a second one off to Lex.  All three of them crouched on the far side of the car from where the shot had come from.  The small wooden shack that housed toilets and vending machines was to their back.  On the far side of the shack and running in both directions were woods.  "Who the fuck is shooting at us?" 

"A sore loser?" Lex guessed.  "Can you see anyone?"

"No," Tony said, staring hard, looking for any movement.  "Any chance we can get back in the car and drive out of here?"

Two more shots cracked through the air and Tony could hear air escaping from the two left tires.

"That would be no," Lex said.  "I wish I knew how many there were."

"Six," Clark said.  "No, seven," Clark was looking all around him.  "Eight, nine, ten."

"How the hell do you know that?" Tony asked.  A shot hit the curb he was using to keep his balance as he crouched and sprayed him with small biting shards of cement.  "Crap!"  He yanked his hand back and ducked fully behind the car.

"My powers are starting to come back.  My x-ray vision just went back on line."

"You have x-ray vision?" Lex asked.

Clark nodded.

Lex had this crazed, wild grin on his face.  "You are, without a doubt, the coolest and best thing that ever happened to me."

Clark beamed at him, and he leaned in to kiss Lex.  "I so want to have sex with you," he said.

"Talk to me in two years," Lex said glumly.

"Two years?" Clark yelped.

"I'm weeping tears for the two you, really, but could we focus on the ten people trying to kill us?"

"Sorry," Clark said.  He looked around.  "Tony, there's someone just about to round that corner."

Tony turned, waited, and took the man down before he got off a shot.  "Who's next?"

Clark shook his head.  "No one's moving.  Wait, right there, he's about to shoot."

Another shot rang out and then two and three, and bullets were flying.  Tony felt more stings from the wood behind him as it splintered, and he heard Lex cursing behind him.  Then a bullet hit his thigh, and he fell back on his ass.  "Fuck, I'm hit."

"Clark, go help him out." 

Clark was suddenly there, pulling him well behind the car, holding pressure on the wound.

"You okay?" Lex called.

"You mean in a 'is there arterial blood shooting into the air' kind of okay, or the 'fuck this hurts' kind of way?"

"Either.  Fuck!" Lex was scrabbling away as bullets riddled the ground where he'd just been crouching.  "We are so fucking screwed.  Tell me you have other clips."

"I wish I could," Tony said grimly.  "I really wasn't expecting a firefight tonight."  He pulled off his belt and handed it to Clark, who cinched it around the site of the bullet, watching Tony for direction.  "That's good," Tony said, grimacing, "ah, back it off a little."

"Sorry, sorry," Clark said.

Tony waved his apology off.  The kid still didn't know his own strength.

Suddenly there was the sound of something clunky falling around them, and Tony looked in horror as several pieces of meteor rock fell to the ground.  Clark winced, and Lex lunged for the stuff and threw it, in a succession of tosses, as far away as he could.  "Okay?" Lex asked.

Clark swallowed but nodded.

"Kill Luthor," one of the voices hissed loudly enough to be overheard.  "It'll be easier to get the boy that way."

"Hey," Tony yelled.  "I resent that."

Lex smacked him on the back of his head. 

"Well, I do," Tony said sullenly. 

"They're coming closer," Clark hissed.  He was trying to get between Lex and the shooters, and Lex was trying just as hard to keep him from doing it.

* * *

Gibbs kept low, running as fast and silently as he could.  He heard Tony yell that he was hit, along with the announcement that they didn't have extra clips.  If he had heard it, whoever the hell was shooting at them heard it, too.  And that meant the shooters held all the cards. 

Gibbs hoped to change that. 

He had grabbed extra clips for his gun, as well as his sniper rifle from the trunk, and he had that tucked under his arm as he neared to where Tony and two other men were taking shelter behind a limousine.  Based on his bald head, Gibbs guessed one of the men was Lex Luthor. 

"Do you know what I'd do right now, if I had time to make a phone call?" Tony asked.  Gibbs watched as he glanced behind him up at the roof of the small shack. 

"No, what?" Lex asked, taking a peek over the trunk of the car.  Bullets rang out, and Clark had Lex on his belly so fast, Gibbs barely saw him move. 

"I'd call Gibbs," Tony answered, "and I'd tell him that I'm head over heels for him, and that I was sorry we weren't going to get to have sex before I died."

"Why don't you tell me to my face, DiNozzo?" Gibbs said, as he moved in next to Lex.  Circumstances really didn't let him think about what Tony had just said, but Gibbs planned to get back to it.

"Gibbs?"  Tony's jaw dropped.  "Where the hell did you come from?"

"Heard the rifle shots from the road.  Parked my car about a quarter mile down and ran in."  He opened the case for his rifle. 

"Lex and Clark, meet Gibbs.  Gibbs, Lex and Clark.  Tell me that's your sniper rifle," Tony begged.  It quickly became evident that it was.

"Very pleased to meet you," Lex said.  "Clark, show Gibbs where our shooters are hiding.  Use the numbers on a clock to give him direction."

Clark furrowed his brow but then nodded.  "Got it.  Don't do anything stupid."

"We'll be making sure no one shoots Gibbs," Tony said. 

"Want to tell me who these guys are before I start shooting them?"

As if on cue, a heavily accented voice yelled out, "All we want is the boy and his ship, and you can leave here alive."

"Not going to happen," Lex and Tony both yelled back at the same time.  The way Clark was suddenly pressed against Lex, hanging on to him for dear life, told Gibbs that Clark was happy where he was.

"Ship?" Gibbs asked.

"Long story, boss," Tony said.  "Fuck," he added when more meteor rock came sailing their way.  Lex picked it up and threw it a distance that would have made any professional baseball team coach stand up and take notice.

"Have you called the cops? Or told them you're an NCIS agent?"

"Can't call the cops, and I'm not an NCIS agent."

Gibbs planned to fix that, especially if the idiot was in love with him.  Gibbs stood up; he really didn't want to kill people without giving them a chance to surrender.  "NCIS.  Throw your guns down, and come out with your hands up."

A barrage of bullets rang out, but Clark yanked Gibbs down hard enough to crack his knees on the cement.  Gibbs thought that was a good trade for not ending up with bullet holes. 

"They're not really the 'come out with your hands up' kind of guys," Tony pointed out.

"I can see that."

Gibbs had the telescopic rifle set up in under a minute.  Clark moved next to him per Lex's earlier instructions.  "There some reason you can see these guys and I can't?" Gibbs asked.

"X-ray vision," Clark said.

"Is that supposed to make sense to me, DiNozzo?"

"Nope.  Just go with it."

"That why they want to kidnap Clark?"

"One of the reasons," Lex said. 

Tony shot some bullets into the woods at random intervals.  "I don't suppose you have extra clips in that bag, do you?"

"To my gun," Gibbs said.  He handed it over to Tony.  Then he looked at the surrounding woods and couldn’t see a soul.  "How many people are out there?

"Nine now," Lex said. 

"Ten o'clock," Clark said.  "Right by that tree that's a little bent.  His heart's beating right behind that first branch."

Gibbs shot him a look, but then he pulled the trigger and there was a quickly extinguished grunt of pain.

Tony made his way over to Gibbs and pulled a couple clips out of the bag.  "I am very glad to see you, Gibbs."  He handed his gun to Lex, so he had two, while Tony kept Gibbs' and the extra clips.

"That's not what you said earlier."

"Two o'clock," Clark said. 

"I see him."  He pulled the trigger again, and there was the sound of someone falling.

The remaining men started aiming seriously for Gibbs, and Clark pulled him out of the way at the same time Lex and Tony fired on the sources of the flashes.  "Sorry, about that," Tony said, "but we were on a tight time table.  We had to meet with the people who kidnapped Clark."

"These them?"  Gibbs was back up and looking into the woods.

"No.  These were an unexpected complication," Lex said.  "I count five down.  Clark?"

"I only see four."  He pointed toward the woods.  "Eleven thirtyish."

"I don't see him," Gibbs said.  "Give a landmark, and I don't mean where his heart is."

"That's the easiest part to see at night," Clark explained.  "Okay, see that bird's nest high up on that tree, follow it down."

"Got it," Gibbs said, and he took another one down. 

More bullets came aiming for Gibbs, but several of the bullets ricocheted.  Clark was busy protecting Lex from getting hit, so Gibbs stayed put.  "Get the fuck down, Gibbs," Tony complained.  "You're gonna get me killed."

Just then another bullet hit the trunk of the limousine and ricocheted into Tony's shoulder, knocking him down. 

"You okay?" Gibbs yelled.  When he didn’t get an answer, he snapped, "DiNozzo!"  He wanted to check on Tony, but the last few men were getting desperate. 

Lex shifted to crouch next to Tony. 

"His heart's still beating," Clark reassured Gibbs.

Gibbs wondered who the hell this kid was.  "Tony, you with me?"

"Yeah," Tony said faintly.  "Never better."

Gibbs grinned as Lex put some pressure on Tony's shoulder. 

Tony said, "Duck," and Lex dropped his head down to Tony's chest.  Tony shot another man who had crept a little too close for comfort.  "Take that, you asshole."

Lex was grinning when he lifted his head. 

Tony couldn't help but grin back.  "What a fucking night, huh?"  Lex kept applying pressure.

"Where are they, Clark?" Gibbs snapped, not appreciating the rapport Lex and Tony seemed to have.

"There," he said, "One and two o'clock.  They're together, talking." 

Gibbs was looking through the scope but couldn't see a damn thing.

"Um," Clark said, "let me get behind you."  He moved directly behind Gibbs, same level.  "This is better.  Follow the line of the car antenna.  Go two inches higher."

"Got it," Gibbs said and he squeezed the trigger twice in succession.

There were several seconds of silence, and then several more.

"Aren't we still missing someone?" Tony hissed.  "I only count nine down, I think." 

Clark looked all through the woods then snapped his head around.  "Lex, right behind you."

Lex spun but the other man's rifle was already up, and Gibbs knew neither he nor Lex was going to get a shot off in time.  Clark threw himself in front of Lex, and the bullet slammed into his chest.  Tony shot the man in the forehead, and then collapsed back down the concrete, groaning.

Yelling out a horrified, "No!" Lex clutched Clark to him, frantically running his hands over his chest.  "Don't you fucking die on me.  Not now.  Not tonight."

"Ow," Clark said.

Lex's hands stopped.  "Ow?"  His voice had a dangerous undertone. 

"I guess my powers came back just in time," Clark said as he held up a smashed bullet.  "That hurt."

"If you weren't impervious right now," Lex said darkly, "I'd shoot you myself."

"I couldn't just let him shoot you," Clark said incredulously.

"Suppose your powers weren't back?" Lex yelled at him.  "Suppose I was holding you as you died in my arms.  What about that?"

"Do we really have to wait two years to have sex?" Clark said.

Tony started to weakly laugh from his spot on the ground.  "Welcome to the madhouse, Gibbs."

"Want to tell me what's going on?  Is he wearing a vest?"  It was the only logical reason Gibbs could think of.

"Yes, we have to wait until you're eighteen."

"Why?"

"No, he's not wearing a vest," Tony said.  "Like I said, I'll explain later.  Right now, we have to get Clark home to his mom, and me to a doctor."

"How old are you?" Gibbs asked Clark.

"Sixteen."

"And how old are you?" he snapped at Lex, wondering if Clark knew Lex was having sex with Tony.

"Twenty-two," Lex said.

Somehow that surprised Gibbs.  He hadn't been exactly sure how old Lex was, but he had the presence of a much older man.

"Then for damn sure you have to wait until you're eighteen," Gibbs said sternly to Clark, "unless you want Lex brought up on charges of statutory rape.  Besides, you should make sure the person you want to have sex with plans not to cheat on you."

"They just made up my age," Clark said hotly.  "For all I know, I'm older than all of you.  And Lex would never cheat on me.  And it wouldn't be rape if I consented."

"Yes, it would," said Lex and Gibbs. 

"And I would never cheat on you," Lex promised Clark, wrapping his arms around him, and pulling him into a hug that Clark happily sank into.

"What about DiNozzo?" Gibbs pointed out.

"There's nothing going on between me and Lex," Tony said.  "And where's that damn helicopter.  It is coming, isn't it?"

"Fuck.  Sorry."  Lex pulled out his phone and dialed a number.  "Clark, make sure we're really alone." 

Clark looked around from his vantage point, clearly not willing to budge.  "They're not all dead, but none of them are moving."

"Good enough for me," Gibbs said.

"Not for me," Lex countered.  "I need you here as fast as you can get here," he said rapidly into the phone.  "I'll send the coordinates."  He hung up, and did something to his phone.  When he was done, Lex patted Clark on the back.  "I need to get up."

Clark didn't look happy, but he stood and helped Lex up.  Lex checked the clip of his gun.

Tony tried unsuccessfully to stagger to his feet.  "I'll help."

"Get down, DiNozzo," Gibbs snapped.  He moved over to be closer to the man, making sure his wounds weren't life threatening.  It was all well and good to know his heart was beating, but it didn't mean it couldn't stop.  "You can't just shoot those men when they're down," Gibbs protested to Lex.

"Watch me," Lex said.  "I don't want any of them alive to go after Clark again.  If you don't want to be a part of this, get out of here."  Just then, the sounds of an approaching helicopter filled the air. 

Tony put out a hand to keep Gibbs from going after Lex.  Lex hadn't actually gone after anyone yet, as Clark was talking to him.  Tony pulled Gibbs closer.  "You don't know what they were going to do to him.  We almost watched him get raped in front of our eyes.  They were auctioning him off to the highest bidder.  The people who lost are rich and powerful, and--"

"Powerful enough that having eight dead men, versus ten dead men, won't make a bit of difference.  These shooters were just foot soldiers, Tony.  The real power behind them isn't here."

"Everything okay?" the pilot yelled out, even though he saw immediately that they weren't.  "Why the hell didn't you call me?" Rich demanded of Lex.  He already had his firearm out.

"Because I didn't want them to shoot you down."

"I could have landed farther away," Rich protested.

Lex let out a weary sigh.  "Truthfully, I was a little too busy staying alive.  Next time I'll call."

Rich frowned.  "Hudson is going to kill me."

"I'll tell him I'll dock his pay if he does," Lex said.

Rolling his eyes, Rich let it go.  When he saw Clark, he grinned, "Hey, Clark.  Glad to see you safe and sound.  What the hell happened?"

"Thanks, Rich," Clark said with a tight grin.  "Some more people tried to get me."

"You're right," Lex said to Gibbs, clearly having overheard, and he put the safety on the guns he held.  "Let's leave them.  Whoever sent them will come retrieve them, which is all the more reason to get out of here as quickly as possible."

Gibbs took his pistol back from Tony, and took Tony's from Lex, sliding it into Tony's holster.  Then he put an arm around Tony's shoulder.  "Come on, let's get up.

Tony tried, but his leg kept folding under him. 

"I let you out of my sight for two damn days, and look what happens," Gibbs complained.

Tony snickered against Gibbs' shoulder.  "It's been a hell of a two days."

Rich picked up Gibbs' rifle and broke it down carefully, under Gibbs' watchful eye.  Clark picked Tony up like he was a child and carried him to the helicopter.  Then he pulled something from the car and, after talking to Rich about it, secured it on the far side of the helicopter like a spare tire on an SUV.  Clark and Lex sat with their back to the pilot, with Gibbs and Tony facing them.

"Take us to Smallville," Lex yelled to Rich.

Rich made a thumbs up gesture, and the helicopter lifted from the ground.

Lex rubbed his eyes and Clark turned on the seat until he could pull Lex back against him.  "Get some sleep."

"I can't," Lex said.  "Not yet."  He pulled out his phone and dialed a number.  "Julia, we're done.  I've got Clark.  That last two million you put in my account?  Consider it a bonus.  And I'd let you go off on your vacation to Maui, but we need to pull the PR team together to figure out what spin we're putting on dismantling LuthorCorp while the world lay sleeping."  There was a pause.  Lex smiled.  "Thank you, Julia.  Your assistance over these last two days has been extraordinary.  Good night."  He squeezed Clark's arm that was around his torso.  "She sends her love."

Clark smiled.  "Now can you get some sleep?"

Gibbs had his own job to do.  "Is there a first aid kit in here?" he asked Rich.  He wanted to check out Tony's wounds.  He had Tony stretch out on the seat after he found the kit Rich directed him to.

"No," Lex said to Clark.  "Call your mom.  Use Tony's phone."

"Crap," Clark said in dismay. 

Gibbs pulled off Tony's phone and handed it to Clark.  He dialed a number and then said, "Mom?"

Gibbs could hear the crying.  He took the belt off from around Tony's thigh, then pulled his knife from his pocket and sliced Tony's pants open. 

"Hey," Tony complained.

"There was already a bullet hole in them," Gibbs said.  Although even he had to admit that Tony looked pretty damn good in the suit he was wearing.  He wondered if Tony had been telling the truth about there being nothing between him and Lex, or if he'd only said it to reassure Clark.  Then he wondered exactly what had given Abby the idea that there was something going on. 

He checked out the wound and was glad to see that it was an in and out, mostly just seeping at this point. 

"She won't stop crying," Clark said unhappily.

Lex was dialing another number.  "Bruce."

Gibbs shot Tony a questioning look.   
"Bruce Wayne," Tony mouthed to him.  Gibbs' eyebrows rose; it was a night for wealthy men.

"580 million.  I already sent the remainder back to you."  There was a pause.  "Bruce, I don't know how to thank you."  A pause.  "Yes, he's right here with me."  Lex patted Clark's arms again, and nestled back.  "Smallville.  Clark's home."  Another pause, and Gibbs watched Lex's eyes get droopy.  "Okay.  Yes, Tony was shot, but he's still conscious."  A pause.  "Toby."  Lex frowned and said, "He's not that bad," he mumbled back to whatever Wayne had said.  Then the phone slipped out of his hand, and Lex was down for the count. 

Gibbs picked the phone up off the floor.  "Lex just fell asleep.  You'll have to talk to him later."

There was a brief laugh.  "Tell him I'll send my own doctor," Wayne said to him.  "Toby's a quack."

"I'll tell him."  Maybe if they couldn't involve cops, they couldn't involve hospitals.  That made sense, as gunshots meant reports, and reports meant lying at this point.   

Lex startled awake.  "Clark?" he asked in a panic.

"Mom, hold on," Clark said into the phone.  "I'm right here, Lex," Clark said, kissing the top of his head.  "Go back to sleep."

"No," he said, struggling to pull it together.  "I have one more call to make."

"You need to sleep."

"Tony needs a doctor."

"Bruce Wayne said he was sending his," Gibbs told Lex.

Lex looked confused for a moment, but then surrendered.  "Fine."  He shut his eyes, his fingers curling over the strong arm that held him. 

"I'm okay, mom," Clark said.  "We'll be there in a few minutes.  We're in Lex's helicopter."  His mom spoke for a while.  "Tony's okay, well, not really, he got shot, but he's mostly okay."

That brought Gibbs' attention back to Tony.  He worked Tony's arm out of the suit jacket.  "Clark," Gibbs asked, interrupting his phone call.  "Are there any bullet fragments still in him?"

Clark stared at Tony's shoulder and thigh and shook his head.  "He's okay," he said.

Gibbs nodded, impressed at Tony's luck, that even though he got shot twice, they were both fairly superficial wounds.  He grabbed a stack of gauze four-by-fours out of the first aid kit, and pressed them against the bullet wound in Tony's shoulder.  That one was still bleeding steadily. 

He looked down to see Tony smiling.

"What are you grinning at?" Gibbs asked him.

"We got Clark back," Tony said. 

Gibbs would give him that.  He sat next to Tony, saying, "Sit up a little and lean back."

Tony relaxed into Gibbs' hold and seemed to fall asleep. 

Clark was busy talking to his mom, and even though his eyes were bright with emotion, he grinned at Gibbs. 

Gibbs found himself grinning back.  He was almost sorry he hadn't let Tony and Lex kill the men that weren't dead. 

* * *

As the helicopter landed, Lex woke up, wishing he could stay exactly where he was for the rest of the night. 

"Mom, I'm in the front yard.  I'm hanging up now.  Mom, look outside.  I'm really hanging up, okay?"  Clark turned the phone off and handed it to Gibbs, who slid it into Tony's pants pocket. 

"Come on, Prince Charming," Gibbs told Tony.  "Time to get up."

"I'll get him," Clark said, as he reluctantly pulled away from Lex.  He stood, then reached down and lifted Tony up easily, watching his head as he stepped through the doorway and leaped easily to the ground.

"Oh, my God!" Martha cried outside the helicopter, and Lex watched as she was half hugging Clark, and half worrying over Tony, trying to usher them toward the house. 

Lex sighed, really wishing he'd had more time with Clark before they'd brought him home.  He wasn't looking forward to insincere gratitude from Jonathan, which is what it would be, no matter how he prettied it up.  He didn't think he had the energy to keep his game face on through the next couple of hours. 

"He's not safe here," Lex told Gibbs.

"Clark?"

Lex nodded.  "There are more where those men came from."

"What is he?"

There was hardly any point in hiding how different Clark was as Gibbs had seen him use his x-ray vision, stop bullets with his chest, and carry Tony around like a baby doll.  On the other hand, it was Tony's place to tell or not to tell Gibbs.  "Ask Tony," he finally said.  Lex would leave that decision, whether to trust Gibbs with everything about Clark, to Tony.

"I will," Gibbs told him.  "There a reason we're still in here, when everyone else is out there?"

"Let's just say that Clark's dad hates me, and I'm not sure I have the stomach to watch him have to thank me.  I did this for Clark, not for him."

"Why does he hate you?"

Lex sighed.  "My father made a fool of him a long time ago."

"Sins of the father?" Gibbs asked, his eyes shrewd.

"Something like that.  And I'm not completely without blame for what happened tonight," Lex told him, not exactly sure why he couldn't seem to shut up.  "I didn't know about Clark.  I just knew he was my best friend.  Smallville is a strange place.  It's filled with this meteor rock that does bad things to people.  I was curious.  I brought people here to study them, to study other anomalies."

"And it led them to Clark?" Gibbs guessed.

"I'd die before I'd hurt him," Lex told him.  "I'd do anything to protect him.  I had no idea I was--" Lex swallowed, thinking of how this night could have ended.  "Jesus."  He bowed his head, clasping his hands behind his neck. 

"Hey," Clark said from the doorway, his eyes kind.  "I don't blame you, Lex."

"Maybe you should," Lex said.  It seemed the right time of night for self-flagellation. 

Lex heard Gibbs get up and leave the helicopter, and he was grateful the man was giving them some privacy.  Lex was going to take advantage of whatever time they had now to say as much of what he needed to say as he could.  Once they were all in the house it was likely to be chaos.

"I don't blame you," Clark said again, his voice loving.  He stepped up into the helicopter and crouched in front of Lex.  "I'm the one who's sorry I didn't trust you enough to tell you.  You've done nothing but help me this last year, through one disaster after another, and you never asked me for anything but the truth, and all I did was lie was to you.  I'm the one who's sorry."

Lex wanted to believe him; wanted to shake off this acute sense of blame like a dog shaking off water, but it felt glommed onto him.

Clark put his hands on Lex's thighs, right above his knees.  "If we're talking blame, I've got more than enough myself."  He ran a hand over Lex's bald head.  "Those rocks came with me.  I did this to you.  And while I think it's sexy, I know it made your childhood even harder than it had to be."

"Let's keep any blame for my less than stellar childhood firmly with my father," Lex suggested. 

"It's still my fault.  All the meteor mutants, that's my fault.  Lana's parents dying, my fault, all of it."

Lex studied Clark, his earnest face, ready to own his own lion's share of the guilt and join Lex on the whipping post.  "We are a pair, aren't we?" Lex said with a wry smile.  "How about we just forgive each other, and move on.  What do you think about that?"

"Sounds good to me," Clark said.

"Your father won't agree," Lex warned him.  "I suspect we'll be arguing before the night's through."

"I'll take your side."  He pulled Lex into a hug.  "Just don't ever leave me."

 

Lex held him back tightly, wanting nothing more than to escape somewhere with Clark for the rest of their lives.  He ran his hands up and down Clark's strong back, searching for the right words to say.

"That's one thing you don't have to ever worry about," Lex finally said.  "We're already best friends.  From the moment I met you I felt a connection with you that's never faded.  Maybe this is what it's like where you're from.  Maybe this is how your people choose their mates, I don't know.  What I do know, and what I can tell you, is that I'm not going anywhere."

Clark made as if to speak, but Lex put his fingers over Clark’s mouth.  “Just hear me out.  It was only a few weeks ago that you were taking Chloe to the prom.  And it wasn't long before that when you had strong feelings for Lana.  Very strong.  I don't believe you've had adequate time to grieve for her.  Lana was a part of your life for a very long time, as well as someone you had strong hopes of developing a relationship with."

"What are you saying?" Clark said, his eyes anxious.

Lex framed Clark's face with his hands.  "That I love you.  That I always have, and suspect I always will.  That I'll take whatever you can give me, but not at your expense.  I want to give you time, to give us time.  And in two years, if you can stand in front of me and tell me that it's me you want, I'll take you to Hawaii, or Massachusetts, hell, I'll buy us both citizenships to Canada, and I'll marry you.  But, if you decide, in those two years that your heart belongs to Chloe, or to someone else, I'll still be proud to be your best friend."

Clark's eyes were shining.  He kissed Lex gently, and Lex got one of those flashes of a Clark who was older than his years.  "You're mine, Lex, and if I have to wait two years to prove it, then that's what I'll do."

Lex's heart ached with love for Clark.  "I could have lost you tonight."

"But, you didn't.  You saved me."

"It was so close.  You have no idea."  Lex wondered how long he'd be having nightmares about this.

"It's over."

"Clark, it's not," Lex said gravely.  "You understand that, don't you?  Too many people know about you.  And they want you enough to challenge the people who put on the auction.  Just doing that is a death sentence, and they didn't care.  Whoever it was won't stop just because they lost tonight."

"You'll keep me safe," Clark said with such surety that it made Lex's eyes prick with tears, even as it filled him with fear.  How was he supposed to keep Clark safe when he wasn't even sure he was welcomed in his house?

Then Martha was in the helicopter, and she was wrapping her arms around Lex and thanking him over and over again, and Lex let every heartfelt thank you absolve some of his guilt.  Not all of it, but enough of it that he thought he could get out of the helicopter and deal with what came next.

Just that second, the sound of a second helicopter filled the air, and Lex gently pushed Martha aside and quickly exited his helicopter, gun in hand.  Rich was already armed, and Lex saw Gibbs race outside, armed as well.    

"What is it?" Martha asked in a frightened voice.  "Why do you all have guns?"  She and Clark were still out in the front yard.

"Get in the house, both of you," Lex ordered.

"I'm not leaving you," Clark said firmly.  He pushed his mom, though, toward the house.  "Go inside."

She shook her head stubbornly, and Lex rolled his eyes.  He squinted up at the helicopter until he could make out the logo on it and then, with a sigh of relief, let the gun drop down to his side.  "It's one of Bruce's."

"Maybe it's the doctor he said he'd send," Gibbs said.

The helicopter landed a little ways down the driveway, and shortly thereafter, Bruce Wayne, and a man Lex didn't know, were walking toward them.

Lex met him halfway and even though he knew Bruce wasn't much for public displays, Lex hugged him anyway.  He pulled back and saw that Bruce was actually smiling.  "Is that Clark?" he asked.

One hand still on Bruce's shoulder, Lex put a hand out and motioned Clark closer.  "Clark, this is Bruce Wayne."

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Wayne," Clark said, even as he pulled Lex away from him.

Bruce snorted at that and then introduced the man behind him.  "This is Dr. Solomon.  Where's the patient?"

"Inside," Lex said.  "And this is…" he hesitated then said to Gibbs, "I'm sorry, I don't know your full name."

"Jethro Gibbs."

"Jethro Gibbs, Bruce Wayne.  And this is Martha Kent, Clark's mother."

Bruce nodded at Gibbs and took Martha's hand.  "I'm glad Clark is home safe and sound."

She looked a little dumbstruck and who could blame her.  Clark was back, her cousin had been shot, she had two helicopters on her lawn, and while Lex couldn't claim the title anymore, Bruce was still one of the richest men in America.

"Let's go inside," Gibbs suggested.  "Tony's in a lot of pain."

As a group, they all headed toward the house.

* * *

Tony managed to sit up to take some Tylenol with a sip of water.  Jonathan had run to the door when the second helicopter had arrived, but had quickly reported back to Tony that everything seemed to be okay.  Tony tried to get up, but his body was done with moving and making it very clear that sitting up was as good as it was going to get.

He was already annoyed at Jonathan that he hadn't gone out to talk to Lex.  "You owe him your thanks," Tony said sternly.  "You have no idea what he's been going through the last two days to get Clark back."

"I'll thank him," Jonathan said just as everyone started coming in the door.

Tony's eyes lit on Gibbs hungrily.  The man looked good, and didn't it figure that he had just miraculously shown up and saved all their asses.  Tony also hadn't forgotten that he'd blurted out the fact that he was in love with the man.  He was sure Gibbs wouldn't just conveniently forget that.  Tony anticipated more head swats in his future.

Lex came in next, then Clark, and Bruce Wayne behind him, Clark looked like he was doing his best to keep Bruce out of touching range of Lex.  If Tony wasn't so tired, he would have laughed.  He tried to stand again, but Gibbs was there, pushing him down on his good shoulder. 

"Don't be an idiot," Gibbs said.

Martha and a man Tony didn't know came in last.  Rich must still be outside, and he was talking to someone, so Tony guessed the two pilots were having pilot shop talk on the front lawn. 

"Mr. Wayne," Tony called.

Bruce walked over to him.  "I see you're who the doctor is for."

"Yes," Tony said, "I'm the pincushion.  But, I wanted to thank you from the bottom of my heart."  He knew Lex was the real savior here, but Bruce had turned a moment of true despair into hope, and Tony would never forget that.

Bruce shrugged.  "We both know Lex did all the work.  I was just the pinch hitter."

"It made the difference," Tony said. 

"I was glad to help."

Tony had a stray thought that Bruce Wayne was even more handsome in person, and then Gibbs was suddenly fussing at him, calling the doctor over.  At the doctor's request, he lay flat so he could get to Tony's leg.  Tony gritted his teeth against the pain at the movement. 

"Do you have something to give him?" Gibbs asked.

The doctor nodded and asked Tony, "Any allergies?"

Tony shook his head no.

Martha appeared with a stack of towels and a bowl of water.

Grabbing his kit, the doctor spent a minute preparing a syringe, which he then injected in Tony's thigh, a few inches below the injury.  "Give that a few minutes, and you'll feel better.  Let me know when it hits, and I'll work on your leg.  In the meantime, let's get you the rest of the way out of your suit jacket and shirt so I can check out your shoulder."

With Gibbs' help, Tony stripped down to his undershirt, and then, as the drug started to kick in, he lay back and let the prodding commence.

 

* * *

Clark was hovering as close to Lex as he dared with all these people around.  He watched as his dad slowly approached. 

"Lex," Jonathan said.

"Mr. Kent," Lex said cautiously.

It killed Clark that Lex felt so uncertain, especially after tonight.  Surely after tonight, his dad would get that Lex would never hurt him.

"I wanted to thank you."

"You're very welcome.  I'm just glad it all worked out.  Bruce Wayne helped, as well."

His dad's eyes lit up at that, and just that quickly Clark saw that nothing had changed.  His dad was too glad to hear that he owed Clark's return to someone in addition to Lex.  Clark moved even closer to Lex in support.  He wished that he could take Lex away, especially as it was clear to Clark that Lex knew exactly what his dad was thinking.  The flash of hurt was gone as quickly as it appeared, but Clark had spent hours watching and memorizing every expression on Lex's face.  

But, then, as if remembering his manners, or maybe Clark's mom was glaring at him, Jonathan put out his hand.  "I mean it, Lex.  You couldn't have done anything that means more to me than this."

Lex reached out carefully, as if worried that Clark's dad might pull his hand back at the last minute.  Clark was a little afraid he might, too, but he didn't, and the two of them shook hands.

"How'd Tony get shot?" Jonathan asked when the handshake was over.  Even Clark could hear the implied, 'why him and not you,' in the question.  
Lex smiled tightly.  "He didn't have Clark yanking him out of danger every five seconds."

"Clark," his dad said admonishingly, "you should have been taking care of Tony, too."

Clark knew that, but it was Lex he had to protect.  He had to.  "Sorry, Dad."

"I have some questions, and I’m hoping you have some answers," Jonathan said next.  "Who took Clark?  How did you get him back?"

Clark watched as Lex drew in a deep breath, gathering his thoughts.  Clark had a sick feeling in his gut that anything he said would be taken the wrong way by his dad.  It sparked such a surge of protectiveness in Clark that he felt as if Lex's life were actually in danger.

"I'd like to know that, too," Gibbs called from across the room.  "Jethro Gibbs," he said for Jonathan and Martha's benefits.  "NCIS."

"Naval Criminal Investigative Services," Tony explained, grimacing as his shoulder was thoroughly cleaned.

Gibbs showed his badge.  "I'd like to know who I was shooting at."

"Was the Navy involved in this?" Martha asked, sounding hopelessly confused.

For a moment Lex caught Bruce's eye, and Clark was consumed with jealousy.  He couldn't hope to compete with someone like Bruce; handsome, rich, and totally in Lex's league.  He felt like helping Bruce out to his helicopter and sending him on his way.  But, he also knew--even if he didn't know the specifics--that Bruce had helped get him free.  Plus, Lex had almost just proposed to Clark, and not to Bruce, so Clark decided he could stay.  He also got points for bringing a real doctor so they didn't have to deal with Toby who totally creeped Clark out.

"I don't know where to start," Lex admitted.

"Maybe some of this might go down easier with a smaller crowd," Jonathan suggested guardedly, no doubt thinking that everyone in the room didn't know Clark's secrets.  In fact, he was probably wishing everyone would leave except for Clark, at least until he could get some answers.

"Not much point in that," Lex said bluntly.  "I know, and while Bruce doesn't know the specifics, he knows enough.  I don't know Dr. Solomon, but Bruce wouldn't have brought him if he couldn't be trusted."

"What exactly is it that you know?" Jonathan asked with a scowl.

"Everything," Lex said. 

"And how exactly did you find out?" Jonathan asked heatedly. 

"I told him, Jonathan,” Tony said.  “He needed to know."

"It wasn't your secret to tell," Jonathan bellowed at Tony.  He glared at Martha.  "It's why we decided not to tell anyone, ever, because you tell someone, and then they tell someone, and now Lex knows, and Bruce Wayne knows, and who knows who they’ve told."

"Dad, stop it," Clark said. 

Lex put a hand on Clark's arm.  "It's all right.  The magnitude of this secret, and your father's fears for you, warrant his concerns.  And I'll tell you," he said to Jonathan, "what I told Clark.  I do hold myself partially to blame for what happened tonight, and for whatever happens next.  I set the ball in motion, no matter how inadvertently, despite the fact that I would never have done anything to purposely hurt Clark."

"But you did," Jonathan said. 

Clark frowned at his father.  "I was the one who was kidnapped, and I don't hold Lex responsible.  I saw the pictures and stuff they had, and it was as much my fault as anyone's.  Anyone could have seen me doing the stupid stuff I did.  It never really crossed my mind that someone could be spying on me.  Not here, on the farm, in Smallville."

"Who took you?" Gibbs asked.

"I don't know his name," Lex said.  "Do you?" he asked Bruce.

"It's safer not to," Bruce said.

"I agree," Lex said.  "He finds things, one-of-a-kind things, exquisite things, and he auctions them off to the highest bidder.  Clark was on the docket tonight."

Clark's mom gasped.  "How could he do that?  How can he just take someone off the streets and do that?"

"I can neither explain, nor do I excuse what he does, but I can tell you that I have attended the auction before to buy art and historical artifacts.  I had received an invitation just yesterday morning for tonight's auction and thrown it away, having no desire to go.  As soon as Mrs. Kent and Tony came to me to tell me that Clark was missing, I knew it was Clark they'd be auctioning off."

Clark watched his dad process what Lex was saying, and he could see it wasn't going down well.  It was as if his dad could not get out of the rut his mind went down anytime Lex's name was mentioned.  Clark could almost predict that his dad's thoughts ran along the lines of: 'yes, he saved my son, but only because he participates in slave markets, even more reason why he and my son should never see each other again.'

"We're so grateful you figured it out, Lex," his mom said.  "What would have happened if someone else had won?"

Clark shuddered at the thought and inched closer to Lex.  He was elbow-to-elbow with him now, a little closer and he'd be thigh-to-thigh.

His dad noticed his movement and frowned at Clark.

Clark ignored him.  There was nothing his dad could say that would make him leave Lex's side.  Not just because Lex was his, but also because right now, despite the fact that all his powers were back, he only felt safe with Lex.

"We are grateful," Jonathan said, "But I want to be very clear about this, I will pay you back."

Lex let out an almost silent laugh.  "You'll pay me back.  Right.  Because I don't imagine there's much worse you can think of, now that you have your son back, than owing a debt to a Luthor."

His dad didn't refute Lex's claim, and Lex nodded wearily. 

There were two heated "Jonathan's" coming from his mom and Tony, but Jonathan stood his ground.

Lex ran a hand over his head and said, "I need a breath of fresh air."  With that he walked out the door.  Clark glared at his dad and followed him.

"Clark," Jonathan said sternly.  "I think you should stay inside."

Clark rolled his eyes.  "Right.  I'll stay inside after you pay Lex back."  He slammed through the door after Lex, knowing in his anger that he'd knocked one of the hinges loose. 

"You okay, Lex?" Rich was asking Lex when Clark joined him.  The other pilot was silently watching.

"Fine," Lex said shortly.

Rich looked like he didn't believe him, but he shot Clark a look which said, 'Fix this.'

Clark nodded and prodded Lex around to the back of the house.  "Liar," he whispered to his friend.  Lex glanced at him and Clark could see the combined humiliation and anger shining in his eyes.  "Hold on," Clark said, and he picked Lex up and supersped him to the mansion, figuring Lex would probably welcome the opportunity to have a meltdown in the privacy of his own home.

When they came to a stop, Lex staggered for a moment, grabbing Clark's arm to steady himself.  Then, Lex was by the crystal, and he picked up a heavy goblet and heaved it at the far wall. 

Clark got out of the way.

When he was done with the goblets, Lex moved to the fireplace and after picking up the poker, he systematically started smashing holes in the walls, taking out an occasional statue or two.  Clark quickly grabbed a handful of things he knew Lex particularly liked, and tucked them out of harm's way in the other room.  He didn't think Lex even noticed he'd gone and come back.

It was a good thing that all the help were gone.  There must be someone who came during the day because the office was dusted, but the place was empty right now except for them.  If anyone was still here, they'd be coming to investigate all the noise, and probably get stabbed through the heart with a pointy object.

It took Lex a good fifteen minutes before he started to wind down.  The room was destroyed, plaster was hanging off the walls, there was shattered glass and porcelain all over the floor, and even a corner of Lex's desk was broken.

Clark just watched him.  He felt bad about his dad, really bad about him, but there wasn't anything to say.  His dad wasn't going to change, at least not without a gun to his head, and maybe not even then.  The only difference, now, was that Clark knew his dad was wrong.  He knew Lex would protect him; would do anything it took, and he'd be better at it than Clark's dad had ever been.  Better than Clark certainly had been.  It was only now, after he'd been kidnapped and showcased for a group of strangers, that he realized how stupendously naïve he'd been. 

And that was even after dealing with Phelan.  Lex had offered to help when that whole thing had been going on, knowing something was wrong, but Clark had been so sure he could take care of it.  Clark supposed he had, but he still wished he'd confided in Lex. 

Lex stood in the middle of the room, panting, his fingers still tightly wrapped around the poker.  Clark figured it could go either way.  Lex's fingers would either open up and it would fall to the floor, or he would start up again. 

"You can hit me, if it would make you feel better.  You can't hurt me."

Lex looked horrified at the thought.  "God, Clark."  The poker fell to the floor.  "Never.  I would never hit you."

"Lex," Clark said, standing and pulling Lex into a hug.  "I know that.  I just meant that I'm a pretty indestructible punching bag."

Lex shuddered in his arms.  "I can't stop thinking about what might have happened to you if I hadn't won."

Clark was trying very hard not to think about that.  "I did thank you, didn't I?"  Lex didn't answer, and Clark was pretty sure he did, but just in case, "Thank you."  He stood there, holding Lex, knowing the only reason he wasn't entirely freaking out was because he was with Lex.  Clark was sure, if he was by himself right now, or trying to get some sleep up in his bedroom, that he'd be climbing the walls.  "I knew it was you," he said.  "Even though I couldn't see you, and all your voices were disguised, I still knew."

"How?" Lex asked.

"I don't know.  I do have good hearing, but my powers weren't working.  Somehow I just knew."  Clark couldn't imagine what the night would have been like without Lex there.  It was the only thing that had kept him from breaking to pieces as he was being bid on like a slab of meat. 

Lex pulled back and stared at Clark, and Clark was happy to stare back.  He didn't often have the opportunity to just openly admire, usually having to resort to covert surveillance. 

Finally Lex sighed.  "Thank you for bringing me here, but we should go back."

"Feel better?"

"Not really, but I think I can control myself now," Lex said with a small smile.  "I was honestly afraid I might punch your father if I stayed there another second."

"I would have held him for you," Clark offered.

Lex laughed a little.  "Thank you, but I'd rather not take you up on that offer.  Plus, not all of this," Lex gestured at the impressive destruction, "was due to your father.  It's been a frustrating two days.  Two weeks.  In fact," Lex said, putting a hand on Clark's shoulder, "it's been a terrible week for you, too.  Do you need a room of your own to destroy?"

Clark snorted.  "I'll pass.  As long as you're with me, I'll be okay."

"Then we really should go back.  I'm sure your mom isn't ready to not have you around, and we still have a lot to talk about."

"Do you want to drive or have me run you there?"

"Run me there," Lex said with a grin.  "I was too angry to fully appreciate the experience before."

"You got it," Clark said with a grin, picking Lex up like a bride on her wedding night.  "Is this okay?  I sort of have to not have you near my legs."

"It's fine," Lex said with a small roll of his eyes.  "Just put me down before anyone sees us."

Clark could do that.  He started running back the way they came.

* * *

"That was uncalled for," Martha snapped.

"And ignorant," Tony agreed, furious with Jonathan and his unreasonable stubbornness. 

"I have known Lex for years," Bruce said stiffly before Tony could go into his own harangue, "and while I know Lex was a little wild when he was a teenager, he has turned into one of the best men I know."  He moved closer until he was only a foot or two in front of Jonathan, and Tony thought he brought looming to new levels. 

Tony got up, despite Gibbs' glare and the happy juice still running through his system.  He wobbled a bit, but with a steadying hand from Gibbs, he moved next to Bruce, doing his own looming.  "I've only known Lex two days, but he's already someone I consider a good friend, and one I hope to keep.  I have watched him, over the last two days, sell, or try to sell, everything he owns to raise enough money to buy Clark back.  He was willing to sacrifice it all.  Everything he owned went up for sale."

Jonathan looked at Martha, but based on the fury on her face, he wasn't likely to find any support there.  His eyes lit on Gibbs.

Gibbs shrugged; his blue eyes had that flinty sort of annoyed edge Tony was very familiar with.  "I don't know all the particulars," Gibbs said, "but I sure know if someone brought home my child who'd just been kidnapped, that I'd have at least offered him a cup of coffee."

"How much?" Jonathan managed to say.

"3.98 billion dollars," Tony snapped out. 

"If you're serious about paying him back," Bruce said, "that's about eight million a month for the next forty years, or two million a week, or about three hundred thousand dollars a day."

Martha said, "Oh, my God," while Jonathan managed to get out a, "Jesus."  He stumbled back to the couch, perching on the arm, as if his legs wouldn't hold him anymore.

"If I had bought LexCorp, the way he begged me to," Bruce said, emphasis on the word beg, "he'd be bankrupt right now.  But I know how much that company means to him.  He built it from the ground up.  I suspect it means as much to him as this farm does to you.  He would have given it to me for pennies on the dollar to rescue Clark."

"Mr. Wayne," Martha said, moving near to him. 

"I suggest you reevaluate your position on Lex," Bruce said to Jonathan.  "You clearly know nothing about him."

"Ditto," Tony said.

"That makes three of us," Martha said, her arms crossed over her breasts. 

"How much did you lend him?" Jonathan asked in a strained voice.

"580 million dollars.  A drop in the bucket."

"That means 3.4 billion came from Lex," Tony added.

"Then it seems I'm in your debt, too," Jonathan said.

"No, you're not," Bruce said firmly.  "I did that for Lex.”

There were some noises out on the front stoop, and Lex and Clark entered the room.  "Did I miss something?" Lex asked, as he took in the hostile crowd facing Jonathan.

"We're defending your honor," Tony told him.  He grinned at Lex.

He got a weak grin in return, but Tony could tell he was preparing himself for more slams before the night was through.  Tony was planning on gagging Jonathan if he got out of line again.

"Lex," Jonathan began.  "Your friends believe I owe you an apology."

Lex cocked his head to the side, as if waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

"It's been made painfully obvious to me that I can never pay you back," Jonathan said. 

"I don't expect you to."

"Hear me out."

Lex nodded.

"On the other hand," Jonathan continued, "as you know, I'm a cautious man, and I'm wondering what you expect from me, from us, after this kind of favor."

Tony watched as once again, Lex didn't get what he wanted.  Not an apology at all, but poorly wrapped paranoia.  Tony could guess that if it had been Lionel Luthor who had done this kind of favor for Jonathan and his family, there would have been good reason to fear.

"I’m just glad that Clark is safe, at least for the moment,” Lex said tightly.  “I'd prefer to put anything related to money behind us and talk about something much more important."

"3.4 billion dollars seems pretty important to me," Jonathan said.

"Clark's safety is incalculably more important, and we need to discuss the danger he's in.  He won't be safe here anymore."

"I'll keep him safe."

"You can't," Lex said.  "I'm in a position to understand, I think, better than you, the danger Clark is in and--"

"I’m his father, and I can protect my own son,” Jonathan interrupted, his voice intractable.  “I do owe you an enormous debt for bringing him back safe to us, Lex, money aside, but now that he’s home, we’re all forewarned.  We’ll be able to keep something like this from ever happening again.”

Tony tried to imagine how to bridge the gap between what Jonathan thought and the truth.  His mind was a blank. 

“I know it’s one of the reasons you don’t trust me,” Lex said, “but I have spent my entire life around people who think their money makes them better than anyone around them.  I have known men and women who think that people without money are useful only in how they can entertain.  And I have endured people, my father among them, who think of almost everyone else as toys to be played with, manipulated and used.  So, yes, I do understand, better than anyone in this room, with the exception of Bruce, what can drive someone with sufficient funds to buy anything they wish."

"I know what dangers are out there for Clark," Jonathan bristled.

"Only some of them," Lex countered.  "Tony and I, with Bruce's help, were able to buy Clark back from the auction house tonight.  Usually that is the end of it.  As absurd as it sounds, considering the heinous act they perpetrated on Clark and you and Mrs. Kent, there is an immutable agreement that at the end of the night the losers walk away and don't look back."

"That didn't work so well tonight," Tony interjected.

"No, it didn't," Lex said.  "When Tony, Clark, and I were driven to our drop off point, before I could call Rich, we were ambushed by ten men, and the driver was killed.  They made it clear they were after Clark."

"Is that how Tony got shot?" Martha asked.

"Yes," Lex said.  "And I suspect Tony and I would both be dead, and Clark retaken by someone unknown to me, if Gibbs hadn’t shown up."

All heads turned to Gibbs.  He stared stonily back.

"Where are those men?" Martha asked with some trepidation.

"Dead, or close to," Gibbs said. 

"But, there'll be more," Lex said.  "Whoever wants Clark won't let that stop him.  And he, or she, won't care about collateral damage."

"You killed ten men?" Jonathan demanded, staring at Lex as if he'd personally ripped their beating hearts out of their chests.

"Gibbs identified himself as a federal agent, and gave them the opportunity to surrender," Lex said.

"They said no with a shitload of bullets," Tony added.  He pointed at his shoulder.  "I think this was one of them."  He was grateful now that Gibbs had identified himself, despite the uselessness of the gesture.  It might make things go down a little easier for Martha and Jonathan. 

"You can't just kill people," Jonathan said.

Then again, Tony thought, maybe not.

"Yes, we can," Lex argued.

"Especially if they start shooting first," Tony threw in.

"I can take Clark back with me to Gotham City," Bruce offered.

"Clark isn't going anywhere," Jonathan said hotly.

"You and Mrs. Kent would be welcome to join him, of course," Bruce added.

"I'm not going anywhere without Lex," Clark said very clearly.

"Do you think there'll be more people coming after Clark?" Martha asked.

"Yes," Lex said.  "They've already broken the rules of engagement by coming after him once.  Whoever it is has nothing to lose at this point, and believes he or she can get away with it.  That speaks of enormous money and power to me."

"Not enough to win Clark with money alone," Gibbs pointed out.

"No," Lex mused, "and I suspect they might have been one of the ones to bow out earlier, already deciding that they'd save money if they simply stole Clark after someone else won.  They would have needed some time to get enough men into position to follow the limousine in whatever direction it went without tipping their hand.  Not to mention get their hands on some meteor rock.  I don’t know how they did that.”

“The people who took me had a ton of it,” Clark said.  “Maybe these people, whoever they are, just helped themselves to the stash.  The van they transported me in had piles of the stuff.”  He swallowed, his face wincing as if in memory.  Tony watched as Clark, probably unconsciously, moved closer to Lex.

"They know about Clark, and crap, we should have finished those last ones off.  Damn it," Tony swore.

"What?  Why?" Gibbs said.

"Because whoever's still alive will be able to report back that we weren't using the meteor rock, which meant that we knew Clark and were friends with him."

"And that will lead them here," Lex finished. 

Gibbs didn't look happy with that thought.  "We need to get out of here, or we need to set up for a siege."

"So we can kill more people?" Jonathan bristled.  "Haven't you done enough damage for one night?" he added pointedly at Lex.

"It would be just as easy for me to point fingers as you, Mr. Kent," Lex snarled, finally losing the calm that Tony admired; not that he blamed Lex.  "If you had trusted me, none of this would have happened.  In fact, I have a question.  Why have you stayed here?"

"What do you mean?" Jonathan asked.

"You know what these meteor rocks do to Clark, right?"

Jonathan narrowed his eyes.

"I'll take that for a yes.  Why did you stay here, in a town filled with a substance that could kill him?  Why?"

Jonathan didn't say a word, which didn't surprise Tony.  There were only two possible answers.  Either he hadn't thought of it, or he couldn't bear the thought of selling off his farm.  Neither showed him in a particularly good light.  Jonathan’s hands fisted and he took an angry step in Lex’s direction.

In a split second, Clark was between Lex and his father.  "Don't touch him."  His hand was on his father's chest, prohibiting him from moving an inch.

"Do you hear him?" Jonathan hissed.  "He's accusing me of not caring for you.  He's talking about murder like it means nothing.  He was the one who pulled Roger Nixon into our life.  He was the one who had scientists working on the meteor rock that almost killed me.  He was the one who shot you a dozen times with an automatic rifle.  All of this is on his head.  If you're still in danger, he's responsible for that, too.  How can you possibly want to remain friends with that?"

Lex paled.  "What do you mean I shot you?  Clark, what does he mean?"

"It doesn't matter," Clark said through gritted teeth, his eyes furiously focused on his father.

"It does to me," Lex insisted, his hand on Clark's shoulder.  "Was this when I was under Rickman's influence?  Jesus, Clark, I could have killed you."  Lex's hand was running down Clark's back as if looking for bullet holes.

"Get your damn hands off my son," Jonathan bellowed, trying to get past Clark.

"Lex, you know bullets can't hurt me."

"But they could have.  If you hadn't been who you are, I'd have killed you."

"If I wasn't who I was, it never would have happened.  Rickman happened because of the meteor rock.  Most of the horrible things that have happened were because of me and the meteor rock."  Clark looked at his dad, furious.  "And you shot me, too, just like Lex, and I don't blame him any more than I blame you."

"What?" Jonathan said, staggering back.

"When you were under the influence of those flowers," Clark told him.

Jonathan looked devastated, but he rallied quickly, ranting, "You mean those flowers that resulted from one of Lex's experiments?  Something else that can be blamed on Lex?"

"Something else that can be blamed on me," Clark said angrily.  "Me.  I brought the meteor rock with me.  It all traces back to me."

"Can we get back on track?" Tony suggested, deciding this was going nowhere helpful fast.  "What do we do now to keep Clark safe?"

Jonathan looked like he wanted nothing more than to murder Lex, but he took a step back.  "We can stay here.  Clark has his powers back; he can get to safety if he needs to."

"And what if they use a crop duster loaded with a powdered form of the meteor rock to drop on the house?" Lex asked.  "They're not stupid enough to try to take Clark without it."

Jonathan visibly pulled himself together.  "Lex, Bruce, all of you, I can't thank you enough for bringing Clark home safely to us.  At this point, though, this is a family affair, and I'd like all of you to leave."

Lex stared at Jonathan in disbelief.  "Have you heard nothing I've said?"

"I heard you.  And while I admit there's some danger to Clark, I’m sure we can take care of it ourselves.  I have weapons, and I've been shooting since I was a kid."

Tony slapped a hand over his face, shaking his own head in disbelief.  "Jonathan, not to be too blunt, but are you an idiot?  I get you don't like Lex, but for fuck's sake, find a way to get past that before you lose Clark completely."

Martha had obviously already gotten past Jonathan's attitude, as she said, "Lex, Clark and I will do whatever you think we need to do.  Should we go to Mr. Wayne's?"

"Martha," Jonathan snapped.

"Don't even talk to me," she seethed.  "Lex, Tony, and Gibbs, all of whom were armed, went up against ten armed men tonight and barely escaped with their lives.  What if they show up here with that many again or more?   Do you actually think we can hold them off with a couple of two-barreled shotguns?  We all made some bad decisions, Jonathan.  All of us.  Lex because of his curiosity, us because we made the wrong call about Lex, and us again because we didn't even think of leaving our home after we knew about the meteor rock.  I'm ashamed of myself for that."

"Mom," Clark protested.

"It's true," she said to him, her hand on his cheek.  "We should have just packed up and left the minute we found out."

"I wouldn't have let you," Clark said.

She just moved to Clark and pulled him into her arms, holding him tightly.

"We both decided to give him a normal life," Jonathan insisted.  "Do you think he'll ever see normal again if we give him up now?"

"I know you want Clark to be normal," Lex said, "and not that you need or even want my approval, but you've done an amazing job raising him.  He's a truly good person because of you.  But he's not normal.  He's a wonder.  He's the most amazing thing that's ever happened to this planet.  He's like the Crown Jewels of England, the Hope Diamond, and the Star of Bombay rolled in together.  And you know what they do to protect them?  They have guards with guns twenty-four hours a day to keep them safe."  

"You can't just start killing people like that," Jonathan ground out.

Lex closed his eyes, as if searching for patience.  "Mr. Kent, yes you can.  You can kill people to protect something you believe in.  That's why there are wars, which are nothing more than legally sanctioned murder.  It's why there are secret-service agents protecting the president, why people hire bodyguards.  All of those people will kill in an instant to protect something worth guarding.  Clark is worth more than all of them combined."

"That's not the way I raised him.  A normal human doesn't think that way."

"No, but he's not human.  And as soon as his powers came on-line, you must have realized that his life, your life, would never be truly normal.  And I don't mean just the strength and the other things he can do, but that you might have to do things you wouldn't normally be willing to do to keep him safe."

"I can't do that," Jonathan snapped.  "I can't give up my humanity.  I couldn't live with myself if I did that."

"But you could live with yourself if Clark is destroyed?" Lex yelled back, totally losing control.  "Listen to yourself, for God’s sake.”

Jonathan made an aborted effort to get to Lex but, quicker than the eye, Clark was between them, keeping his father at arm's length.

It had the effect of calming Lex down.  He turned away from Jonathan and faced Clark.  "One day soon, Clark, you will be able to protect yourself from everything.  I'll find a way to keep you safe from the meteor rock, and we'll find a way to let you use your powers without putting you at risk.  But in the meantime, I will do anything, and I mean anything, to keep you safe."

"I know you will," Clark said.  "You always have.  But I don't want you destroyed by this, either.  Despite what you're saying, I know you aren't any more comfortable with killing than my dad is."

"I had no qualms killing those men tonight, and I won't in the future.  I know the worth of what I'm protecting.  It's very clear in my head, Clark.  It's not murder.  I’m protecting you, someone who became more important to me than anything else in my life even before I knew these other things about you.  Don't ever think your powers or origin are the main reason I'm doing this.  I'd have killed to protect you from the moment I met you."

"I know," Clark said, love and affection clear in his voice.  "Me, too."

"So," Tony said, "Bruce's house, the Penthouse, or someplace else?"

Lex and Bruce exchanged looks, and Tony wished he could read minds.  It was clear, however, that Bruce was leaving the decision up to Lex.

"As much as I would rather take Clark back to the Penthouse, I think Bruce's mansion is better set up for a siege."

"Pack a bag," Lex told Clark and Martha.  Tony noticed he didn't include Jonathan in that.  He walked away from them and over to Bruce.  Clark, who was supposed to be packing a bag, followed Lex.  When Lex got to Bruce he stopped, and Clark bumped into him.

Lex looked over his shoulder.  "I thought you were packing."

Clark frowned at him.

Bruce grinned.  "I think he's jealous."

Clark reddened, but stayed put.

Tony snickered, glad that Martha and Jonathan were on the stairs leading up to the bedrooms, arguing furiously.  Tony winced as he realized that all his clothes were sitting in his rental which was at Lex's penthouse.  "You have an extra razor?" he asked Bruce.

"I have an extra everything," Bruce said.  "Which reminds me, I need to call Alfred to tell him to expect guests."  He whipped open his phone and dialed a number.

* * *

Gibbs' head was spinning, although he was doing his best to hide it.  While he didn't have all the facts, it seemed as if Tony's cousin's son was an alien.  Not the immigration kind, but the extraterrestrial kind.    

And while that was intriguing enough for Gibbs to see the appeal of hanging around, right now it looked as if Clark's future was in good hands with Lex and Bruce.  Gibbs decided it was time to go home and take Tony with him.

"Time to go home, Tony," he said to get Tony's attention.  Bruce’s doctor was checking over the bandages one more time, making sure they were secure.

"Can't, Gibbs.  I'm going to Bruce's."

Gibbs didn't think so.  "Don't you think that Lex and Bruce have this under control?"

"Maybe, maybe not, but Lex put me in charge of Clark's safety, so I'm going."

"What the hell does that mean?" 

"I work for Lex now."

"No, you don't.  You work for me."  That was why he'd come out here in the first place, to take Tony back home where he belonged.

"I quit.  Lex hired me yesterday."

"What the hell does that mean?"  Not that it wasn't painfully obvious, but to be honest, Gibbs had never thought, for a second, that he wouldn't be successful at getting Tony to come home.  Especially after hearing Tony's declaration of love.

"It means I'm staying here, or wherever Lex tells me to."

Gibbs looks around, glad to see that no one was paying them the least bit of attention.  "You said you were in love with me."  Those words passing Tony's lips, and his refusal to come home, weren't computing.

"I did, I am.  Not that I would have said anything if I hadn't thought I was about to be dead.  Nice timing, by the way.  With the saving of all our lives, I mean, not the overhearing an embarrassing remark.  Although, considering how often you do that, color me not surprised that you show up in a field in the middle of nowhere to overhear me."

"Your life is back at NCIS," Gibbs said.  Everyone knew he had gone to retrieve Tony; he couldn't go back empty handed.

"Gibbs," Tony said.  "Jethro.  I can't work for you anymore.  I do love you--although sometimes I have no idea why--but I can't have you as my boss.  Loving you and sometimes hating you was making my head hurt.  I stopped trusting how I was feeling about anything.  I spent every day waiting for you to say something nice to me like I was, well, you said it back at my apartment, like I was a puppy looking for a handout.  I don't want to be that man anymore.  It was doing bad things to my self esteem which can be shaky on a good day.  And you knew that, and you exploited it anyway, and you'll keep doing it, because when you're working on a case, you'll use everything you've got to solve it, even if it's making mincemeat out of our lives."

"You don't think Lex will use you?"

"Sure he will," Tony said.  "But do you know how many times he's said thank you to me already?  In two days he's said it more than you have in eight years.  And you should see the types of bonuses he hands out," Tony added with a grin. 

A grin Gibbs might not see again.  He tried a new tack.  "Everyone wants you back.  Especially Abby."

"And I appreciate that," Tony said.  "I'll miss them all, you and Abby especially."  To Gibbs' surprise he added, "Why don't you stay?  Lex could use someone like you."

"I'm a Marine, Tony.  It's what I know."

"Maybe it's time to learn something new," Tony challenged him.

"You can have your own team," Gibbs tried.  "You don't have to work for me.  Vance would give you your own team."

"I'm not so sure about that.  I'm betting Vance was thrilled to get my resignation.  And what I don't understand is why you want me back so much?" Tony asked.  "I know you said I was one of the best agents you'd ever worked with, but that was right after you said I fucked off more than any other agent you've ever worked with, so average those together and you end up with a pretty good agent.  There are a thousand pretty good agents out there who can take my place."

Lex interrupted with an apologetic look.  "Time to go, Tony.  Gibbs, we can stop and leave you at your car if you want, or you're welcome to join us, and I can send someone for your car later."

"I'll be there in a minute, Lex," Tony told him.  Back to Gibbs, he asked, "Why?"

"Will you at least come back to DC?  Maybe we can--" Gibbs trailed off, wishing they had more time. 

"What?  Date?  Are you even interested in me?  Do you like guys that way?  Do you even know?  Seems to me you've been too busy wooing and marrying women to find the time to discover something like that."

"If I was interested, would you come back?"

"That sounds an awful lot like manipulation, Gibbs."

"I just want you back.  And I want time to see about the rest of it.  Is that too much to ask?"

"Yeah, I think it is.  Because I don't want to work for NCIS anymore.  I don't want a team of my own, I never have.  And I don't want to deal with you the way you are at work.  If I have the chance to really get to know you, I want to know the you that isn't a bastard and doesn't have a stick up his ass."

Lex was back.  "Come on.  Now."  Clark was right behind him, looking like he wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

Gibbs didn't have much choice, so he followed Lex, Clark, and Tony out and got in Lex's helicopter.  Clark, Martha Kent, Tony, he, and Lex were in his helicopter, with Rich flying.  Bruce, the doctor, and Jonathan Kent were in the other.  Gibbs wondered what army had gotten Jonathan on that helicopter, let alone on a helicopter at all.

Both birds lifted up with precision timing, and Gibbs wondered if Rich had flown choppers for the military.  Actually, given the way he took Gibbs' rifle apart with expert hands, Gibbs would bet money he'd been in the military.  They headed east, and in what only felt like seconds, they were landing in front of what looked like an old Scottish mansion.  Lex was out of the helicopter in an instant, Clark behind him, as he raced inside.  Five minutes later he was back out with two bags, both of which Clark was carrying.  They got the bags stowed in the back, and then Rich was taking off again.  They were barely in the air when there was the sound of a huge explosion and a blinding light filled the sky.

Lex was in the co-pilot's seat in an instant, putting on a head set.  "Bruce?"  He listened for a minute then turned to Martha, a distressed expression on his face.  "It's your farm."

"What?" she cried. 

"Looks like we got out of there in the nick of time," Tony said.

Lex was nodding.  "There are men in hazmat gear swarming what's left of the house."

"Why?" Martha asked, her hand holding Clark's tightly.

"I'm guessing they thought they'd kill us all off with the bomb, and then, knowing Clark would have survived the blast, go in and take him with some meteor rocks."

"We'd all be dead," Tony said in a strained voice. "No one would know Clark had been taken, and the explosion would make people think Clark had been killed in it along with everyone else."

"Oh, my God," Martha whispered.  "We really would be dead, wouldn't we?"

Tony nodded.  "I'm so sorry."

Martha was crying now, but she was still holding tight to Clark.  "We're all alive.  That's all that matters now."

"Don't let them see the Wayne logo," Lex was saying into the headset.  "I'd just as soon not give them any idea where we might be going."  Lex smirked.  "Yeah, yeah, tell someone who'll be impressed."  He pulled the head set off and gave Rich some quiet instructions.  Rich flicked a few switches, and it looked to Gibbs as if he'd armed something. 

"You expecting more trouble?" Gibbs asked Lex.

"I'd rather be safe than sorry."

"Not your average civilian helicopter?"

"Not by a long shot," Lex said with a tight smile.  He sat across from Martha, who was currently flanked by Tony and Clark.  "Mrs. Kent, I'm sorry."

Martha just shook her head, tears running down her face.  "We'd be dead if it wasn't for you."

"Good luck convincing your husband of that," Lex mumbled soft enough for Gibbs to barely hear him.  He was sure Martha hadn't been able to. 

"I won't let him near you," Clark promised.  Clark, apparently, had heard. 

"What?" Martha asked, confused by Clark's seeming non-sequitur.

"Mom, you know Dad will blame this on Lex.  I mean, I'm glad he came with us, Dad, I mean, but he'll be…this will be bad."

There was nothing to be said to that, and silence bore down on the group.  Gibbs watched as Tony kept vigil over Martha, who eventually cried herself out and fell asleep on his shoulder.  When her hold on Clark loosened, Clark was across to Lex in an instant, wrapping his arms around him.  "This isn't your fault," he assured him.

"Even I'm beginning to believe that," Lex said, "but…."  He let out a sigh.  "I'm exhausted, Clark.  I don't have the energy to get into it with him again."

"Then, don't." Clark said.  "We all need to sleep."

"Alfred will have everything set up for us as soon as we get there," Lex said.

"Who's Alfred?"

"Bruce's butler, man-servant, eccentric uncle, and part-time mom and worrier."

Clark grinned at that.  "Sounds like you like him."

"I do.  He's comforting." 

Lex closed his eyes, and Clark leaned back against the side of the helicopter and pulled Lex back against him.  "Sleep."

Lex didn't need a second invitation.  He fell asleep almost immediately.  And even though Gibbs couldn't be sure, he thought Clark did, too.

That left only him and Tony awake, other than the pilot.

"I can't leave now," Tony said. 

Gibbs could understand that.  Martha would need him, and Gibbs could see that Lex, while impressive, was still just a kid, and could probably use a few good people around him to give him advice.  The thought of being one of those people, along with Tony, was compelling, something that surprised Gibbs, but not enough to pull him away from his job.  "I can't stay."

"I know," Tony said sadly.  "I'll miss you."

"Then, come back with me," Gibbs said, exasperated.

Tony just shook his head gently, not wanting to dislodge Martha.  "Maybe we can meet up someplace.  You know?  Like a vacation."

"You ever see me take a vacation?"

"Does Mexico count?"

"No, it doesn't."

"Oh, well, then, no, I guess I never did.  Maybe it's time to start."

The thought was alluring, but what the hell was he going to do on the type of vacation Tony probably took?  Gibbs had no interest in bars or dancing, or lying on a beach working on a tan.

As if Tony could read his mind, he smiled a little.  "Just think about it.  That will help, I think, if I could at least think that you're thinking about it."

"I'll think about it," Gibbs growled.

Tony nodded and closed his eyes.

* * *

Clark felt hands on him, touching him without permission, heard a voice say they wanted to watch as someone forced him to have sex, heard the crowd clapping, urging his would be rapist on.  Clark tried to fight, but was unable to move his limbs.  He woke up and found his mom's sad eyes on him.

He stared at her for a moment, the weight of who and what he was weighing him down.  Then he stared at the top of Lex's head, so trusting and fragile in his arms, fast asleep, and he found a place of gratitude inside that whatever he was had brought Lex to him.  He brushed his lips on the top of Lex's head, not hard to enough to wake him up, but enough to help ease the pain in Clark's heart.

"Mom, I'm sorry," he whispered.  "I feel like this is all my fault."

Martha shook her head.  "We're all at fault.  We've crisscrossed each other's intentions and wrong decisions so many times, I can't even keep track."  She glanced at Lex.  "Clark, I know how much he means to you, but are you sure this is what you want?"

"Yes," Clark said without a second of hesitation.  "I love him, Mom.  I think I always have."

"What about Chloe?  She came by a couple of times looking for you when you were gone.  As far as she knows, or thinks, the two of you are dating."

"I know.  And I feel bad about that.  It's just that--" Clark sighed.  "I just know I love him.  But don't worry," he added darkly, "Lex says we have to wait until I'm eighteen."

Martha smiled a little at that.  "I'm glad to hear that."

"I'm not," Clark said.

That got a wider smile.  "Clark, it's just that you're still young, and you've already got so many things on your plate that set you apart."

"He makes me feel safe."

"I know he does.  And I thank God for him, that he knew how to save you tonight."

"They were gonna rape me, Mom," Clark blurted out, appalled at the sudden tears that pricked his eyes.  "They examined me and touched me, and asked if I was a virgin.  Then, one of the people bidding wanted someone to rape me so they'd know it was okay for them to do it."  He was embarrassed and angry, and he had to consciously relax his body so he wouldn't accidentally hurt Lex, but he still felt better for telling it to someone.

His mom had tears in her eyes, and she moved to crouch near him.  "Oh, honey, I'm so sorry."

"It was Lex that made them stop.  And that's when I knew he was there.  I couldn't even see him, and I knew he was there.  He was the only one, Mom, the only one I could imagine might be able to help me.  I prayed every day that he'd save me.  And then he did."

"I'm glad," his mom said, pushing his bangs off his forehead.  "I'm glad you have each other.  Just don't ever forget that your dad and I love you, too.  And we'll always try to help, even if it's just to tell you that we love you."

"Dad won't," Clark said, wondering if he could ever feel all right around his dad again. 

"Your father is a very stubborn man," his mom agreed, "but don't ever doubt that he loves you."

"Not enough to trust me," Clark said.  "He'd rather just hate Lex."

Martha sighed. 

"I'm sorry about the house and all your things.  I'm sorry I wasn't paying attention and got myself kidnapped.  If I'd been more alert, maybe I could have run away."

"Clark, the only person I'm blaming for the house is the person responsible for blowing it up.  The house was insured."

"But it was all your stuff, too.  Photos, all the stuff you made, things that can't be replaced."

"You lost your stuff, too," she reminded him.  "But the most important things to me, you and Jonathan, are alive, and that's enough to give me hope for what comes next."

"Suppose it's never safe again?  Suppose me being your son makes it so that you can't ever live a normal life again?"

"Let's let life come one day at a time, okay?  I don't have answers for questions like that right now.  Maybe you should try to get some sleep."

Clark didn't really want to go to sleep, afraid he'd have nightmares again, but he nodded.  "I love you, Mom."

"I love you, too, honey."  She brushed his hair with her fingers one more time, and then moved back to sit next to Tony, lacing her fingers with his.  "Did I thank you yet,” she asked Tony, “for showing up when you did?"

Tony squeezed her hand back.  "You can thank Gibbs for that," he said with a grin.  "He pissed me off one too many times until I decided I had to get away."

"Oh," she said, sounding as she wasn't sure how to respond to that.  "It seems odd to thank you for making Tony angry, but I'm grateful nonetheless," she said to Gibbs.

Gibbs just grunted.

Something about it made Clark smile, and settling his arms around Lex a little more firmly, he drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Gibbs was too wired to sleep.  He could see they were approaching the area where his car was parked, so he slipped into the co-pilot seat and gave silent directions to Rich.

Gibbs had pulled his car off on the side of the road.  There was no traffic at this time of night, so Rich just landed on the street.  "There you go," he said with a smile, "door-to-door service."

Gibbs patted his pockets for his keys then shifted to the back again to find his rifle; he'd made sure not to lose track of it as they'd moved from place to place.  He caught Tony's eyes.  "You sure, DiNozzo?  Last chance."

"I'm sure," Tony said, although his eyes were sad as he said it.  He stood, getting out when Gibbs did.

They stood by Gibbs' car.  "You know Abby will call you," Gibbs finally said.  "A lot."

"I know."  Tony grinned.  "I might try to steal her away from you."

"Do that, and I'll come looking for you."

"That's why I might do it."

"Tony," Gibbs said softly.  "Will you come back if I say I'll try to be different?"

Tony leaned forward and kissed him quickly.  "You shouldn't.  You're good at what you do and how you do it.  I just can't do it anymore."

Gibbs wished they had more time and that the helicopter wasn't in the actual street, creating a dangerous roadblock should anyone come driving down it.  He had things to say, and maybe even apologies to make, and he felt too pressed to do any of it.  He was just thinking that maybe he should stay a few days--after all he'd taken off the whole week--when he saw movement in the woods around them.  "Tony," he said, pulling out his gun.

Rich must have seen it, because all the helicopter lights came on, lighting up the street and a few feet into the woods.  There were men everywhere.  Dozens of them.

"Fuck," Tony said, pulling his own gun, back to back with Gibbs.

Lex was out of the helicopter next, pistol in hand, Clark right behind him.  He could hear the other helicopter move away, no doubt ordered to do so by Lex.  Gibbs expected Bruce to be back any minute; he suspected neither Bruce nor Lex took orders any better than Gibbs did.  And, yup, there it was, landing, lights even brighter and, unbelievably, machine gun turrets aiming toward a group of the men.  Why the hell did either of these men need helicopters with this kind of armament?

"Who are you?" Gibbs yelled.  "What do you want?"  If any of them even hinted that they wanted Clark, he'd pull Tony to the ground, and let Bruce's helicopter tear them to pieces.  No one got out of the helicopter, thank God.  All they needed was for Jonathan Kent to get out and start yelling.

"I would speak with Lex Luthor," a voice said from behind him.  Gibbs turned around and tried to see who was speaking.  The voice sounded familiar, but he couldn't place it.

"That would be me," Lex said.

"I am Yasser Farouk."

Lex looked stunned, but then he pulled it together.  If Gibbs worked with Lex, the first thing he'd teach him was a better poker face.

"I see you recognize my name."

"I recognize it," Lex said.

"So do I," Gibbs said.

The man came closer and when he saw Gibbs, his eyes widened just a fraction.  "Gibbs."

"Farouk." 

Yasser looked around, and Gibbs saw him take in everything.  Clark hovering protectively over Lex, a Wayne Industries helicopter, money, resources, power.  "The sanctity of the auction has been broken tonight."

"We noticed," Lex said dryly. 

"I offer my apologies.  This has never happened before."

"What are you going to do about it?" Gibbs asked.

"I did not realize these people were under your protection," Farouk said to Gibbs.

"They are."

"Even the boy."

"Especially the boy."

Farouk nodded his head, pursing his lips.  "I see."  He clasped his hands together.  "Well, what is done is done, but I will make reparations."

"You'll give Lex his money back?" Gibbs asked.

"No," Farouk said.  "The deal was made."

"He was never yours to sell," Lex said pretty calmly considering the topic of conversation.  Maybe Gibbs didn't need to teach Lex as much as he thought. 

"Ah, that is the way of beautiful and priceless things, yes?" Farouk said.  "If they are not protected sufficiently, then they can be taken."

"Not any more," growled Gibbs.

"No," Farouk agreed.  "Nor would he have been taken if I'd understood he was under your protection.  You have my word on it."

"Something happens to him," Gibbs said.  "I'll come looking for you."

"You have my word," Farouk said, a hint of danger in his voice.

"And you have mine," Gibbs said, ignoring it.

"What sort of reparations?" Tony asked.

"The house will be rebuilt and furnished, of course.  Any medical expenses will be seen to."

"And?"

"And those responsible will bother you no more.  You also have my word on that."

"So you know who it was?" Lex asked.

"I do.  They are being contained as we speak."

Lex nodded.

"Of course, now that I know you are under Gibbs' protection, I will be unable to tender any more invitations," Farouk told Lex.  "Or to Mr. Wayne."

"I can live with that," Lex said.

Farouk nodded his head politely.  "Again, my apologies."  Then, "Gibbs."

"Farouk," Gibbs said in return.

There was another head nod, then all the men, Farouk included, seemed to blend back into the woods, until for all intents and purposes, they were alone.

"Holy crap," Tony said.  "Gibbs, how do you know him?"

"I'm curious about that, too," Lex said.

"We met a long time ago," Gibbs said.  "During the Gulf War.  We decided not to kill each other.”  What Gibbs didn’t say was that he and Farouk had met their equal in one another, and had developed a healthy respect for each others’ lethalness.

"Why didn't you try to arrest him now?" Tony asked.  "I mean, I'm glad you didn't, because we'd probably all be dead, but I'm sort of surprised you let him go when you know he kidnapped a minor."

"Because the minor is back in safe hands, and I didn't feel like dying tonight, DiNozzo."

"Neither did I," Lex admitted.  "Tony, are you coming with us?"

"I'll be there in a minute," Tony said, looking at Lex, silently requesting some privacy.  Lex and Clark got back on the helicopter.

Gibbs was out of words to say.  He cupped a hand behind Tony's neck and pulled him into a kiss, one Tony eagerly participated in.  Their tongues met, fervently caressing, searching each other's mouths.  Tony's hands swept down and up Gibbs' back, ending with his fingers in Gibbs' hair.

Gibbs finally pulled back.  "Come back.  Please."

Tony closed his eyes and drew in a shaky breath.  "Not right now.  I need to see this through.  But, I'll think about it.  Okay?  That's the best I can do."

That was better than the unequivocal no Gibbs had gotten before.

"Don't drive straight through," Tony said.  "Stop to sleep."

"I will."

"You know my number, so call me."

"I will."

Tony stole another kiss, said, "You're an asshole for doing this now," and jogged back to the helicopter.

Gibbs licked his lips and stood there as both helicopters lifted off the ground.  He got in the car and was glad it started without any trouble.  As the helicopters took off for Gotham City, Gibbs started his drive back to DC.

* * *

**Gotham City**

**Sunday**

Lex rolled over in bed and gave some thought to getting up.  Life was looking much better today than it had last night, or even early this morning.  Yasser Farouk had taken care of the immediate security problem.  Thanks to Gibbs, Clark was off limits, at least to Farouk and his ilk.  The Kents were getting their farm rebuilt, and best of all, Clark wasn't bound and gagged and dying of meteor exposure as he was taken someplace never to be seen again.

All in all, a fairly satisfactory ending to what had been a truly, truly, crappy couple of days.

There were two things, though, that were keeping him in bed.  One wasn't too bad, just a tremendous amount of work.  He'd have to get back to LuthorCorp headquarters to try and salvage what was left of his fortune.  Fortunately, LexCorp wasn't public, so it would retain its value, but LuthorCorp was little more than ashes in the wind at this point.  Lex needed to meet with his media people, assuming he still had any, and come up with a story that might prevent people from making up one of their own, in all of which Lex would star as a complete financial incompetent.  Not the reputation he wanted when he'd be buckling down and trying to rebuild his fortune.

That was reason number one to lie in bed.

Reason number two, though, was the true cause of why he couldn't bear the thought of getting up.

Jonathan Kent. 

Lex pulled the covers over his head.

Someone jumped on the bed, and given the way the bed groaned in complaint, it had to be Clark.  Lex stayed hidden away.

Clark laughed, pulled the covers off of Lex's head, and said, "He's not here.  So if that's why you're hiding, you can come out.  Alfred is making your favorite for breakfast."

Lex narrowed his eyes.  "What exactly does 'he's not here' mean?"

"He's back in Smallville.  A call came in from an unknown source that work crews would be at the future site of the new Smallville home at ten o'clock this morning, so Bruce had someone fly him back."

Lex blew out a huge sigh of relief. 

Clark grinned at him.  "Chicken."

"Is your mom gone, too?"

"No, she stayed."

Lex's eyebrows went up at that.  "Are things okay?"

Clark grimaced.  "I don't think so.  They slept in separate bedrooms, and she wasn't talking to him this morning.  She didn't even say goodbye to him when he left."

"Terrific," Lex said wryly.  "Something else he can blame me for.  Next it will be world hunger and genocide."

"Are you wearing anything under there?" Clark asked, suddenly very interested in something that had nothing at all to do with his parents.

Lex slapped his hands down on the blankets around him to protect his virtue.  "Go downstairs.  I'll meet you down there shortly."

This time it was Clark who sighed, but he sat back.  "Don't take too long.  I miss you."

Lex couldn't help but grin at that.  "I'll be down as soon as I can, and don't eat everything."

Clark reluctantly got up, his eyes on Lex's body under the blankets.

"You wouldn't by any chance be using your x-ray vision on me?"

Clark blushed, then grinned, then left the room.

Lex lay back laughing, deciding he could definitely get out of bed if Jonathan was gone, and Clark was downstairs waiting for him.  He rose and took care of business in the bathroom, taking a hot shower that helped ease any residual aches and pains.  When he got out, there were clothes on the bed, no doubt placed there by Alfred, and Lex got dressed and left his room.

Clark was at the table, wolfing down pancakes.  He waved at Lex, indicating that he sit down.

"Good morning, Mr. Lex," Alfred said, beaming at him, and placing blueberry pancakes in front of Lex.

It never failed to please Lex that Alfred remembered his favorite type of pancakes.  "Thank you."

"You are very welcome," Alfred said with a kind smile.

Mrs. Kent walked in next, already dressed for the day.  She kissed Clark on the cheek, then Lex.  "Good morning, boys."

Lex couldn't help himself from touching his cheek where she'd kissed him, pleased beyond the telling of it that she not only wasn't angry with him, but seemed glad to see him.

"Good morning," Clark said through a mouthful of pancakes.

"Good morning, Mrs. Kent," Lex said.

"Martha, please."

"Some pancakes, Mrs. Kent?" Alfred asked, putting an unasked for cup of coffee in front of her.

"Just one, and Martha goes for you, too."

"Good luck with that," Bruce said, as he entered next.  "He changed my diapers, and he still calls me Mr. Wayne."  He had several newspapers tucked under his arm.

"Am I going to be sorry to look at those?" Lex asked, finishing up his pancakes, wondering if he would regret eating.

"Yes," Bruce said.  "Do you want to ease into it slowly, or rip off the Band-Aid?"

"Oh, rip it off," Lex said, pushing his plate away. 

Bruce threw the first one down.  The headline read:

Luthor Throne Finally Topples

 

"Charming," Lex said.  "Next?"

Boy Wonder Loses All

 

"Oh, even better."

LuthorCorp In Pieces

 

Lex sighed, as he placed that on top of the rest.  "I'm assuming you saved the best for last?"

Bruce hesitated.

"Come on," Lex said.  "Let me see what I'm facing."

Luthor Heir Destroys Father's Legacy

 

Lex dropped the last paper on the table.  "And this was starting out to be such a nice day, too."

"God, Lex," Clark said in horror as he pulled the papers over to him.  "I'm so sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for," Lex said.  "It was hardly your fault you got kidnapped.  In some ways, this is a fitting punishment for my role in the whole thing."

"Lex," Martha said.

"I know, I know, I've heard it from enough of you that I'll stop the whippings immediately."  He smiled tightly at Martha.  "But you'll have to excuse me for the rest of the day.  As you can see I have some damage control to do."

"I took the liberty of setting up a conference call," Bruce said.  "It starts in fifteen minutes."

"Are you trying to manage me, Bruce?" Lex said with a tight smile as he stood up. 

"Yes," Bruce said.

"I'll allow it today, but keep it up and I'll challenge you to a duel."

Bruce smiled.  "I'll bear that in mind."

Lex glanced back at Clark and Martha.  "Are you two all right for the day?  I'm sorry, but I really need to do this."

"Go, Lex," Martha said.  "We'll be fine."

Clark didn't look happy. 

"If you need me for anything," Lex said to Clark, "just ask Alfred to come get me.  I mean that.  Or for that matter, just come and find me."  It’s not like Clark couldn’t find him anywhere, a thought Lex found oddly comforting.

Clark nodded. 

"And I meant what I said last night," Lex added, with a quick look at Bruce.  "So stop worrying that I’m going to elope with Bruce at the first opportunity."

That got a smile and a blush out of Clark, and a smirk from Bruce.

Feeling better about leaving Clark on his own for the day, Lex followed Bruce down the hall.

* * *

Tony woke up and was instantly filled with such a sense of loss that it left him breathless.  He almost reached for his phone to tell Gibbs that he'd be on the first flight home.  Almost, but he didn't do it.  It wouldn't do him any good; what he wanted wasn't there.

Gibbs was there, yes, but he was the same Gibbs Tony had run from.  With a clarity that a little distance and dealing with someone else's crisis had brought him, he could see that the job hadn't been doing Gibbs any favors either.  Every year he turned into more of a bastard.  Tony wasn't the only one who'd noticed, either.  Both Abby and Ducky had mentioned it in passing. 

There were a hundred things that could account for it, but it wasn't going to get better, even with Tony there.  After all, Tony had been there, and hadn't been able to stop it from happening. 

On the other hand, he was worried for Gibbs without him there.  Most of the times when Gibbs smiled were because of Tony or Abby, and Abby wasn't around Gibbs all the time the way Tony had been.  So that meant even less smiling time, which meant that the second 'B' for bastard was going to grow a font size or two.

He thought about that kiss and sighed.  Asshole.  Gibbs really was an asshole.  Tony had no idea what that kiss had been about.  Did Gibbs even care about Tony that way?  Or was it a kiss to manipulate Tony back to NCIS?  Sadly, Tony wouldn't put it past Gibbs.  He probably figured once Tony was back that he'd stay put this time. 

Tony reached for his phone, winced at the pain in his shoulder, and checked the time.  Gibbs, assuming he didn't stop--which would be just like Gibbs--would be about half way back now.  He toyed, again, with the idea of calling Gibbs, but dialed Abby instead.

"Tony!" she yelled into his ear.  "Tell me you're with Gibbs."

"I'm not.  I'm still in, well, actually, I'm in Gotham City."

"Okay, that is way cool that you're in Gotham City but, first, where's Gibbs?"

"On his way home."

"Why?" she wailed.

"Because I couldn't talk him into staying."

There was a long silence, and Tony winced.

"You're really not coming back, are you?" Abby finally said, sounding defeated.

"I'm really not."

"I hate you."

"No, you don’t."

"I do a little."

Tony let out a short laugh.  "Okay, I guess that's fair."

"He came out to get you," she said.  "Do you get what a big deal that was?"

"I do.  And he showed up just in time to literally save my life.  But, it's not enough.  I want more.  I know it's fucked up, but I want what I was pretending to have with Jeanne.  I think that whole thing with her made me grow ovaries, and my biological clock is ticking.  I want someone who thinks I'm terrific, who is always glad to see me, and who wants to live with me and hear about my day.  I have no idea how Gibbs feels about me, but even if he did want to start something, given the schedule he works we'd maybe get to spend one day a month together, and he sure wouldn't want to hear about my day, and he sure as hell isn't going to invite me to move in."

"He can be really sweet."

"I know.  I've seen him that way with you, although not as often as before.  I don't know, Abby.  I just can't work for the man anymore, and the thought of living in DC and not working with the rest of you just depresses me.  Besides, I have a new job now, and an awesome boss."

"Who?"

"Lex Luthor."

"Oh, my God!" she squealed.  "He's so hot.  Was Gibbs going insane having him near you?"

Tony thought about it for a minute.  "I don't think so.  But, we were all sort of busy when he showed up, and it kind of continued until he said goodbye.  Besides, Lex is totally taken."

"What are you going to do for Lex?"

"Bodyguard.  At least for now.  And he says things like, 'I couldn't have done it without you', and 'I can't thank you enough'.  Stuff like that."

"Gibbs says thank you," she protested.

"To you," Tony corrected her.  "I can't ever remember him saying that to me.  Ever.  Not even when I saved his and Maddie's lives.  And if a guy is ever going to say thank you, that would have sort of been the time, you know?"

"He's gonna be sad, Tony."  She exhaled noisily.

"I know.  And I'm sorry.  And if it makes you feel any better, I'm gonna be sad, too."

"Can I come and visit?"

"Right now, if you want, although I don't have a home.  But I bet Lex would put you up."

"The newspapers all say he's broke."

"They do?" Tony asked.  If newspapers with bad headlines were already out, maybe Tony ought to get up and offer moral support.  "I should probably go see how he's doing."

"This place is gonna suck without you."

"If I could I'd bring both you and Gibbs out here to work."

"In Gotham City?  And why are you in Gotham City?"

"Try to guess whose house I'm in."  Tony waited for her to guess and fail miserably.

"Bruce Wayne's?"

"Damn it.  How did you know that?"

"I was kidding!  He's the only person I've heard of who lives there.  Are you serious?"

"As a heart attack."

Abby shrieked into his ear.  "Is he as good looking in person as he is on TV?"

"Better."

Abby sighed.  "Will you mind if I call you every day?"

"You can call me twice a day, but if I'm busy throwing myself in front of bullets, I may have to call you back."  Not that he'd need to throw himself in front of bullets.  Come to think of it, what was Lex thinking Tony could do to protect Clark?  Except maybe keep him from getting kidnapped again.

"That sounds reasonable," Abby said.  "I really wanted you to come back."

"I know.  I'm sorry.  I gotta go.  I'll talk to you soon, I promise."

"You better."

"Love ya."

"Love ya back."

Tony hung up, relieved at the thought that he and Abby would keep in touch.  He'd never had a sister, but if he could have invented one, it would have been Abby. 

He got out of bed, took the bandages off his thigh and shoulder, and after a long look decided he’d had worse.  Tony took a quick shower, putting a new dressing on his thigh when he was finished, courtesy of the supplies left by the ubiquitous Uncle Alfred.  There were also clothes that magically appeared on his bed while he'd been in the shower.  Shirt in hand, getting lost a couple of times, he limped his way down to the kitchen, thinking what a huge freaking house this was. 

"Hey," he said as he took in Clark's and Martha's fake cheerful smiles.  "You sort of look like how I feel.  Like everything should be good now, but everything actually really sucks."  To Martha, he added, “Could you dress my shoulder?”

“Of course,” she said, taking the supplies from his hand and getting to work. 

"Tell me about it," Clark said, pushing the papers in Tony's direction.

He read the headlines and grimaced.  "Ouch.  Apologies all around, I assume."

He got a smile out of Martha for that one.  "Oh, yes.  From Clark and Lex."

"I've lost track over whose fault everything is," Tony said.  "So, I think we should just start over from here on out."  He smiled gratefully at Alfred when he offered him a cup of coffee, putting a bottle of ibuprofen next to it.  "So, where is our intrepid leader?  Or, my intrepid leader."  He helped himself to three pills, swallowing them down with a sip from a glass of water Alfred supplied next.

"He does feel that way, doesn't he?" Martha mused, putting on the last piece of tape.  "It's hard to remember that he's only twenty-two.  Barely older than Clark.  And I have to admit, and once again I've done him a disservice, that I thought one of the reasons he kept Clark as a friend was because he didn't have any others."

"Thanks a lot, Mom," Clark complained.

Tony put his shirt on, and took a grateful sip of coffee.

"Not that he didn't care about you, honey," she said quickly.  "But he always seemed so lonely, and yet it's very clear that Bruce is a close friend.  How long have they known each other, Alfred?"

"Since Master Lex was eight and Master Bruce was fourteen."

Clark frowned and looked distinctly put out.

"You've actually known Lex longer," Martha said to Clark.

He brightened up.  "Really?"

She nodded.  "You met the day we found you.  He was sick, and we picked him and Lionel up from the side of the road.  You touched his face, and the two of you just stared at each other until we dropped the two of them off at the hospital."

"I don't remember that," Clark said.  But, he smiled, as if glad that he'd known Lex longer than Bruce.

"Pancakes?" Alfred asked Tony.

"Maybe something a little lighter?  A bagel or something?"  Tony still felt tired, and he was afraid if he ate a heavy breakfast, he'd fall asleep at the table.  "So, where's Lex?"

Clark tapped the newspapers.  "Trying to fix things."

That made sense.  "Okay.  So what's next?  I mean, here we are in Gotham City, and sooner or later, I assume Lex has to go back to Metropolis, right?"

Clark scowled.

"And," Tony continued "our middle-of-the-night visitor in the woods, he-who-shall-never-be-named, is breaking land records getting your house rebuilt, but even with that, we're talking a couple of months, right?  Even if he is a kazillionaire, you know something won't be done on schedule.  What are you guys going to do?"

"I don't want to go back to Smallville," Clark said.

"Clark," Martha said, surprised.

"I mean it, Mom."

"What about school?"

"That school is boring."

"School is always boring when you're sixteen," Tony said.

"No, it really is.  I can remember everything I read or hear.  The only time I really learned stuff was when Lex would go over my homework with me, and tell me how to use what I was learning in real life, or how someone in history dealt with the same things.  That's the type of way I learn best."

"Lex helped you with your homework?" Martha said.

"All the time," Clark said.

Martha shook her head.  "Something else I'm in Lex's debt for.  Why didn't you tell me that school wasn't challenging enough for you?"

"What were you going to do about it?" Clark asked.  "I could hear you and Dad arguing about bills.  Private schools are expensive."

"They're still expensive," she said.

"Yeah, but Lex will pay for it."

"Honey."

"Listen, I know you think it's wrong for Lex to give me things.  I get that.  And I get that you think I'm too young for him, but I'm not.  I'll wait until I'm eighteen, mostly because I don't want Lex to end up in jail, but as soon as I am eighteen, I'm going to marry him someplace that’s legal, and he's going to be your son-in-law.  And once you become his mom for real?" Clark said with a lopsided smile.  "He'll never stop wanting to drown you in gifts."

She blinked at him, looking a little stunned.  But then she tapped the newspapers.  "He doesn't have all that money anymore."

Clark made a scoffing noise.  "I know it looks like that, but as long as Lex has some money, he'll make it all back."

"He only has money because of Bruce," Tony said.  "I was there.  He was trying to sell off LexCorp.  If he had, he'd be broke."  He reached for the jelly with his good arm, after Alfred set a perfectly toasted bagel in front of him.

"But Bruce did help," Clark said.  "And he didn't end up selling LexCorp, and because of it, he'll be okay.  He will."

Tony thought Clark was trying to convince himself.  "None of this was your fault," Tony said.  "You didn't ask Lex to do this.   He was willing.  Immediately.  From one second to the next he was on the phone pulling a team of people together.” 

"He looked so discouraged when he saw these headlines," Clark said.

"It can't be an easy thing to be seen in the public eye as someone who is failing at managing the finances of his own company, especially after just inheriting it from someone considered a financial genius," Martha mused.  "It didn't help that it was done so secretively."  She touched the closest newspaper.  "People do seem to delight in raking Lex over the coals." 

"I know," Clark said with a sad smile.  "But he'd do anything for me, Mom.  He always has.  And he'd do anything for you, too.  Or you," he added to Tony.  "Once he loves you, once he trusts you, there isn't anything he wouldn't do for you."

"You don't have to convince me," Tony said.  "I've seen him do it in person over the last couple of days."

"And you don't have to convince me," Martha said.  "Not anymore.  But I'm still not comfortable just taking his money."

"That's because you look at it like it's your money.  A thousand dollars to us is a lot of money.  But for him, it's like pennies you leave at a register to help someone else out.  What's important to Lex is other stuff, like some of your homemade chocolate chip cookies.  No one makes him cookies, or buys him stupid gifts, or tells him he's a good guy.  He's never had that his whole life, so to him, that's what matters.  Money's sort of like monopoly money to him.  It's important, but in a different way than it is to you and me."

Martha studied Clark for a moment.  "Even if Lex could find a school that interested you, what about your father?"

"I could ask you the same thing," Clark said.  "Do you think the way he acted was okay?"

Martha slowly shook her head no.

"He almost hit Lex.  He said awful things to him.  I love him because he's my dad, but I sure don't like him very much right now.  And I don't know how I could live with him and have him expect me to obey his rules when I don't respect him at all."

Martha leaned back, letting out a long sigh, her lips tight.

"And I know I'm safe now, or as safe as I can be, but I don't want to be away from Lex," Clark finished up.  "Even though I could run here anytime I want, it's not the same."

"How about Chloe?  Pete?  Your other friends?"

"What am I supposed to say to them?  Do you know how many times I've lied to them?  Or how hard it is to keep track of all the lies I've told?"  Clark looked miserable about the whole thing.

"That I can help you with," Tony said.  "At least for this past week.  How about telling them that you got in a huge fight with your father about Lex, and you ran away from home.  That will explain the time you were away.  You can even say you came to Metropolis and stayed with Lex, and that he was the one who said you had to go home.  Maybe you can say that Jonathan and Martha were on their way to pick you up when the house exploded.  Do we have an excuse for that, by the way?"

"Yes," Martha said.  She opened up the Smallville Ledger and turned to page two.  A picture of the rubble of the Kent home took up a good part of the page.  "They're saying that a gas main blew up."

"So, running away saved everyone's life.  Perfect ending to a teenage drama," Tony said.

Martha sent him an admiring look.  "You're good at this."

"Years of being an undercover cop.  Sticking as close to the truth as you can always makes it more believable and easier to remember."

"So, I'm just supposed to call Chloe, and lie to her?"

"Do you want to tell her the truth?" Martha asked.  "I won't ask you not to.  Not after the price we paid for you not telling Lex."

"I don't know.  Let me talk to Lex about it," Clark said.  "But, I probably should go call her."

Tony handed over his phone.  "Here, use mine."

Clark took it, and got up, wandering off.  "Oh, when I'm done, I'm going to go find Lex."

"Do you really think you should disturb him?" Martha asked.

"I won't.  I just want to see where he is."  With that he vanished out of sight.

"Where do you stand on the Jonathan issue?" Tony asked Martha.

"Oh, Tony, I don't know.  I've never been so ashamed of him in my life.  I know he's a stubborn and proud man, but he was out of control yesterday.  I know he was scared for Clark, and I've been trying to remember that, and find it in me to forgive him, but I feel a lot like Clark right now.  I think I need some time."

"So maybe Lex can put all three of us up for a while," Tony suggested.

She wrapped her fingers around his hand.  "I’m so glad you're here with me."

"Glad enough to go shopping with me?”

“Tony, you were shot twice yesterday.  Are you sure you should be up and around?  You’re limping.”

“Shopping cheers me up.  Plus, I really need some clothes."

"So do I," she said.  "I only had time to pack a few things."

Alfred managed to walk in at just that moment.

"I don't suppose Bruce has a driver who can take Martha and me to the best shopping in Gotham City?" Tony asked.

"Absolutely," Alfred beamed.  "I'll have the car brought around immediately."

"There,” he said to Martha.  “If I'm not driving, I can take all the pain pills I need, and all the walking I’ll have to do is from the car to the store and back.  Piece of cake.  I'll go find Clark and let him know we're leaving," Tony said.  "Plus, I need to get my phone back."  He limped off in the direction Clark had wandered off in.  A day shopping with Martha and playing dress up was just what they both needed.

Clark wasn't hard to find.  He was sitting on the floor outside two large double doors, looking at the floor.  "They in there?"

Clark nodded.  He handed Tony his phone.

"Any luck?"

"Sort of.  We spoke for a minute.  She's pretty pissed at me."

"Your mom and I are going shopping.  Want to come?"

Clark looked horrified at the thought.  "No!"

Snickering, Tony pocketed his phone.  "Don't get into trouble.  In fact," he pulled his phone back out and texted Lex.  "There."

It took about twenty seconds but the door opened and Lex came out.  "Everything okay?"

"Martha and I are going shopping.  We all want to go back to Metropolis with you and hope you can find us all a place to stay.  Clark would like you to find him a challenging school, and we all think you're amazing.  Consider us your biggest fans," Tony finished with a huge grin.

Lex grinned back, even if he looked a little overwhelmed at all the praise and announcements.  "Are you going shopping?" Lex asked Clark.

Clark shook his head.

"You're welcome to join me," Lex said, "but I think you'll find it deadly dull.  Bruce has a media room that puts mine to shame.  It's at the end of that hall."

Clark's eyes lit up at that.  "Hey, Lex?"

"Yes?"

Clark pointed at the floor.  "Why does Bruce have an underground lair?"

"That's something Bruce needs to tell you."

"Will he?"

"Yes," Lex said.  "You'll be in the media room?"

Clark nodded.  "There isn't any lead between here and there, is there?"

"Not that I know of, why?"

"Because I can't see through lead," Clark said.  "And I want to be able to see you."

"I'm not going anywhere, Clark.  I'll do my best to come by and visit when I can during the day.  Alfred will make sure you're well fed."

"He's great," Clark said.

"That he is," Lex agreed.  To Tony, "I assume Alfred is providing transportation?"

"He is," Tony said.

"Good.  And you’re really okay?” he asked Clark. 

“I’m good.”

Lex looked like it pained him to walk away from Clark but, after that final assurance, he did, and the door shut behind him.

“An underground lair?” Tony asked as he walked Clark to the media room.

“Yeah,” Clark said, looking at the ground again.  “With tons of computers and all sorts of geeky equipment.” 

They entered the media room, and Tony’s jaw dropped.  “Holy shit.”

The back wall was nothing but a huge monitor.  Along the side walls were computer consoles, also with huge screens.  Hundreds of movies and games lined the wall the door was on.  There were pinball machines, and simulator games, and Tony could have lost himself for weeks in that room. 

“Sure you don’t want to stay?” Clark said with a grin.

“I totally want to stay,” Tony said.  “But I think your mom could stand some cheering up, so that’s what I’m going to do.  But when I get back, you and me, buddy, a fight to the death.”  He wrote his number on a post-it note and gave it to Clark.  “That’s the number to my cell phone.  Call me if something comes up.”

Clark stuck it in his pocket.  “Think I should go with you?”

“Nope,” Tony said.  “She’ll be fine.  Just like you’ll be fine.  Things will work out.”

“Even if I never want to see my dad again?”

“I haven’t seen my dad since I was about your age.”

“Does it suck?”

“I never loved my dad the way you love yours, so it’s not quite the same.  You’ll want to see him again, Clark.  You need to let him have some time, too.  There was a lot going on yesterday, and not all of us are at our best under pressure.  Hopefully, he’ll figure out what a horse’s ass he was and come apologizing.”

“And if he doesn’t?”

“Then you’ve got your mom, and me, and Lex.”

Clark nodded. 

Tony laughed as he watched Clark’s eyes sort of glaze over as he looked at all the toys to play with.  “Remember to blink every now and then,” Tony told him.  He clapped him on the shoulder.  “I’ll talk to you later.”

Clark nodded again, sort of absentmindedly.  Tony laughed again, and walked back the way he’d come, hoping to run into Alfred in case he couldn’t remember how to get to the front of the house.


	3. Chapter 3

**Washington, DC**

Gibbs pulled into his driveway, shut the car off, and let his head sag back against the head rest.  He was so tired he wasn't sure he could make it into the house.  Only knowing how much his back wouldn't appreciate sleeping there, especially after that endless drive, got him moving.

He should have stayed.  He'd taken a week off, and he should have stayed.  That was all he could think as he staggered into the house, dumping his bag on the floor by the door.  Forgoing coffee, he headed straight for the bedroom.

He might have been able to talk Tony into coming back if he'd stayed.  Gibbs had no idea why he'd given up so easily.  He'd driven all the way to Kansas, saved DiNozzo's ass, listened to more drama than the ending of all his marriages combined, and then let Lex drop him off at the car.  Why hadn't he stayed?

Gibbs stripped out of his clothes, brushed his teeth, threw some water on his face, debated taking a shower but decided he didn't have the energy to stay standing another second and collapsed on the bed.  As he fell asleep, all he could think was why hadn't he stayed?

* * *

**Gotham City**

Hours later, after the driver helped both Tony and Martha drag all their purchases up to their respective rooms, Tony went looking for Clark.  He was still in the media room, but he was just sitting in a chair, his head cocked to the side.

Tony opened his mouth to talk, but Clark shook his head, putting a finger over his mouth in a shushing gesture.

"What?" Tony whispered.

"They're talking about me."

"Are you supposed to be eavesdropping?"

"They know I'm listening," Clark said.  "Lex reminded Bruce that I could hear everything they were saying before they started talking." 

Tony sat down on the leather couch, one just like Lex's, kicked off his shoes, and stretched his legs out along the cushions.  He'd had fun, but his feet were killing him, not to mention his thigh and shoulder.  "Could I talk you into getting me a pain pill from my room?" he asked Clark.  He’d been eating ibuprofen all day, and he was ready for something stronger.

Clark was back in a second with a glass of water and the requested bottle of pain pills.  Tony took them gratefully, swallowing a pill down with the water.  "How'd the day go for Lex?"

"Good," Clark said.  "Bruce is going to buy whatever's left of LuthorCorp, so it will all look like a big takeover.  LexCorp is going to become a Wayne Industries subsidiary, at least for the time being, and Lex will stay the CEO.  And Lex will also become the president of Wayne Industries research divisions."

"He can be CEO and president at the same time?"  Lex seemed phenomenally capable, but that felt like a lot of work to Tony.

Clark snorted which told Tony it wasn't, at least not for Lex.  "He can do it in his sleep.  And he loves research and development.  He's particularly excited about that part of it.  It seems like they've been lusting after each other's companies for a while."  Clark shrugged.  "Go figure."

"I assume by your usage of the word lust while talking about Bruce and Lex in the same sentence that nothing has happened or been said that makes you think Lex is straying?" Tony teased.

"Shut up," Clark said. 

"What are they saying about you?"

"They're done now," Clark said.  He got up and opened the door; Lex and Bruce were standing there.  "Do I get to see it now?"

Lex shot Bruce a look and grinned.

"You heard all of that?" Bruce asked.

Clark nodded. 

"Let's get Martha first," Lex said.  "She needs to be a part of this."

"I'm uneasy telling so many people," Bruce admitted.  "I've never told anyone except you."

"And I kept your secret," Lex said.

Clark grimaced a little, and he moved closer to Lex and laced his fingers with Lex's.

Lex turned to him.  "Clark, I wasn't implying--"

"I know," Clark said, "but it just makes me feel bad that I didn't trust you enough to tell you my secrets."

Lex pulled Clark in closer and gave him a hug.  "I understand the pressures you were under."

"Martha's probably got her feet up," Tony said, still on the couch.  "We also bought very nice outfits and were thinking that we could easily be talked into a night out."

"I think that's a great idea," Lex said.

"I don't have anything nice to wear," Clark pointed out.

"Yes, you do," Lex said.  "I had one of the suits I had made for you brought up from Metropolis."

Tony was thinking how nice it must be to have a sugar daddy.  He wiggled his toes, thinking it was also pretty nice to have a sugar daddy boss who has a sugar daddy best friend.  And he had to get one of these leather couches.  He wondered just how much money it actually cost.  The fact that Lex and Bruce each had one probably meant it cost more than Tony could afford.  Maybe Lex needed a new one, and he'd be only too glad to pass his leftovers to Tony.

"You look like you want to marry that couch," Lex said.

"I do," Tony moaned.  "Or the one in your office.  I'm not picky."

Lex snickered.  "So, dinner first, then we'll talk?"

Clark shook his head.  "Let's get my mom, talk first, and then have dinner.  I don't want to wait."

"Your general impression?" Lex asked.

"A huge relief," Clark said.  "And I'm scared to death."

Tony furrowed his brow.  "Now I'm actually curious enough to almost get up off this couch.  Scared to death of what?"

"Get Martha first," Lex reminded.

"Right."  Tony got up to his feet, picked his shoes up, and walked to the door.  "Where are we meeting you?"

"By the kitchen," Bruce said.

Tony thought he could find the kitchen.  "Don't start without us."  Once in the hallway, he oriented himself, and then headed to the main staircase.

* * *

Dinner was over, and Tony, Lex, Bruce, and Clark's mom were having some coffee.  Clark let their conversation roll by him.  He was still lost in Bruce's cave.  The bat cave.  And oh, the batmobile.  And the designs for the helicopter and plane.  Tony kept talking about how much someone named Abby would love all of this and that Bruce should hire her immediately to make everything even geekier.

Martha hadn't said much, mostly just listened, and he'd caught tears in her eyes a couple of times.  Clark wished he knew what to say to make her feel better.  He knew she blamed herself for not understanding what he'd been needing, how alone he'd felt.  But Clark didn't blame her.  How could he, when he hadn't even known?  It wasn't until Lex had been talking about how special Clark was, that Clark had finally, finally, felt something open that had been locked tight since he first found out he was different from the other boys and girls he played with. 

He appreciated his strength when it helped someone out, but most of the time, he just wanted to be normal.  But he, more than anyone, knew just how not normal he was, and it had been slowly tearing him apart.  To know that Bruce was hoping to fight crime under an assumed identity so he could keep Bruce Wayne out of the spotlight showed Clark he could do the same thing.

Bruce was talking about starting a justice league.  Just the two of them to start, but he was sure there were other people out there who would join over time.  Clark could see how some of the meteor mutants, the ones that weren't crazy as loons, could join.  Maybe Lex could figure out a way to help any new ones so they could use their powers for good instead of trying to eat people, or turn them into ash, or set them on fire.

Bruce thought Lex should be in charge of where Clark went to help, making sure he built a good reputation right from the start.  He also thought it would be a good idea to see what other powers Clark might have that hadn’t manifested yet.  After hearing about the floating, Lex was certain Clark could fly and was determined to teach him.  Clark thought that was because Lex wanted to go flying, but Clark couldn't think of anything he'd rather do than go flying with Lex.

Tony was the one who said Clark would have to have a name, and Clark thought he would strangle Tony if he came up with any more ridiculous ones.  And Clark didn't even want to talk about the outfits they were suggesting.  Bruce's was cool.  All black and sort of spooky, although Clark thought the ears were kind of stupid.

"How about Rhino-man?" Tony asked him.  "Huh?  Fast and strong?"

"You're going to be rhino-food in a minute," Clark said.

"Look," Lex said to Bruce, just barely pointing toward the window.  "The jackals have arrived." 

Clark looked over to see that the entire sidewalk outside was filled with paparazzi and media people.  Flashes were going off like mad.  His father was going to flip when he saw this on TV.  Clark couldn't find it in himself to care.  His dad was going to have to get used to it.

"It's probably a good thing to be seen out together," Bruce said.  "It will lend credence to the fact that the merging of our companies was done by joint decision, not a hostile takeover."

"Right," Lex said.  "I'd hardly be having a family dinner with you if you'd stolen my company from me."

"How are you explaining Clark?" Martha asked.  "Won't appearing on TV put him at risk from whoever didn't win him at the auction?"

"We can't hide him forever," Lex said, "although I think I'd have suggested we stay in if I'd known our excursion would become such a media circus."

"Besides," Bruce said, "even though our auctioneer did a very good job keeping it out of the media, the death of a certain very wealthy someone, as well as all his security, will send a powerful message to those who might need to hear it."  He shook his head and smiled a little.  "I think between Lex, me, and the mystery clout of Gibbs, the auctioneer will be keeping tabs on everyone for a while."

"Gibbs' mystery clout," Tony said.  "That about sums it up.  Although sometimes it's less of a mystery and more of a smack on the side of the head."  He added, "Falcon Man."

Clark rolled his eyes.

"What?  They can fly at, like, 200 miles per hour."

"It doesn't necessarily need to be an animal," Bruce said.

"You mean like a superlative?" Tony asked.  "Okay, I can go with that.  How about Awesome Man?"

"Mom, can't you shut him up?"

"Not since he was born, dear."

"Hey!" Tony complained.  Then suggested, "Warrior Man.  Although that might be too much of a rip off."

"If you're going with superlatives," Lex said, "you should just go with Super Man.  Super speed, super strength, super vision."

Clark blushed at the name.  "Come on.  I'd be too embarrassed to have a name like that."

"We have lots of time to come up with one you like," Lex told him.  He looked around.  "I wonder if there's a back way out of here."

"We should go out the front, Lex," Bruce told him.  "We'll get Clark, Tony, and Martha in the car, and then we'll answer a few questions."

"And if they ask about them?"

"We either ignore those questions, or we come up with a story right now."

"Just say we're family," Clark said.  "We practically are."

"Just tell the truth.  They're close friends from Smallville and you're putting them up as their house blew up," Tony suggested.  "You don’t really need to explain me.  I'll look all bodyguardish as we leave."

"Good idea," Lex said with an appreciative smile. 

"That's what you're paying me the big bucks for," Tony said.  "By the way, what are you paying me?"

"Big bucks," Lex said.

Tony grinned at him.  "Hey, how about Tremendous Man?"

"Shut up," Clark said, throwing a roll at him.

Tony caught it and put it on his plate.  "Ready to roll?  No pun intended."

Martha nodded.  "This has been lovely, but I'm about ready to call it a night."

Bruce called for the car to be brought around, and then he and Lex started haggling over who was going to pay for dinner. 

Tony meanwhile, much to Clark's amusement, took the bill and handed their waiter his credit card.  "My treat," he said.

Bruce and Lex looked a little stymied.  Clark wondered if anyone ever offered to pay when the two of them were around. 

Lex and Bruce, not to be outdone, left huge tips on the table, and as soon as Tony signed for the bill, they all walked to the front door.  Tony kept them inside until the limousine slid up smoothly to the front curb.  The driver got out and stood by the door, unhappily observing all the people jockeying for position to speak to Lex and Bruce.

Clark thought Tony was a natural at the bodyguard stuff.  He kept an eye on the crowd as he got him and his mom to the car.  Clark could see people backing away and could only imagine the glares Tony was aiming at anyone who got too close.  Once Clark and his mom were in the car, Tony stayed outside near Lex and Bruce as they answered a few questions.

Clark didn't really pay attention as he'd heard it all already.  He wondered how long people would be this crazy about what was going on.  He sincerely hoped not that long.  Every time Clark had come to Metropolis, there had always been some paparazzi following Lex around, but nothing to this extent.

"Your father's going to have a cow when he sees this," his mom said.

"I know."

"You don't sound too upset about that."

"Lex isn't going away.  He either gets used to it, or--" Clark just shrugged.  When his mom didn't say anything, Clark looked at her, and he felt badly when he saw the sadness on her face.  "Mom, I know it’s only been a week, but I feel so different now than I did that Monday I got kidnapped.  It’s like I’m somebody new.  I can't be that teenage farm boy anymore.  I can't.  It would be like putting a straitjacket on."

She brushed the hair off his forehead and stared at him for a long time.  "I can still remember you when you were so small.  It's never easy for any mother, I think, to realize that her boy's all grown up.  Especially when the life you've chosen is one that will put you on the front page of every newspaper in the world.  I can't help worrying."

"I know it doesn't make sense," Clark said, "but having Lex and Bruce, and Tony, and you around, and talking about this stuff, I feel safer than I have since I learned about where I came from and what I was.  It's like I don't have to hide who I am anymore, and it feels great."

"I'm glad, honey."  She kissed him on the forehead.  "But I still retain the rights to worry."

Lex and Bruce got into the limousine, ending up sitting close to each other as Tony crawled in after them.  The driver pulled away quickly, tumbling Bruce almost on top of Lex.

"Comfy?" Lex asked Bruce.

Clark frowned, hating every inch where Bruce was plastered against Lex.  His eyes felt weirdly warm.

"As a matter of fact," Bruce said, hamming it up, putting his arm around Lex, "I am."  He pulled Lex close and gave him a big fat kiss on the top of his head.

Clark's eyes were burning, and then Bruce and Lex were both yelling as the cushion behind Bruce's arm burst into flame. 

"Holy crap," Tony yelled and he darted forward, pulling Lex and Bruce out of harm's way.  Tony was about to, sadly, offer up his brand new suit jacket to put out the flames when Bruce had a fire extinguisher in hand and was putting the fire out. 

"What happened?" Martha exclaimed.

Clark couldn't believe what had just happened.  He covered his eyes with his hands.  Jesus, he'd almost cooked Lex.

"Everything okay back there?" the driver asked through the speaker.

"Everything's fine," Lex said. 

Clark felt the cushion under him shift, and an arm went around him.  He could tell it was Lex.

"God, Lex, I'm sorry," Clark moaned from behind his hands.  "Bruce, too.  God, I could have killed you guys."

"I'm guessing we've just discovered another power?" Lex said.

"Yeah, jealousy rays," Tony said.  "That'll teach you to keep your hands to yourself from now on, Bruce, assuming you actually want to keep them."

Lex was actually laughing.  Laughing!

"Lex, this isn't funny.  I could have seriously hurt you.  Suppose I'd been looking at your face?"

"Let me see your eyes."

Clark shook his head.

"Okay, look toward the right.  There's no one over there."

Clark turned his head and removed his hands, squinting one eye open.  His eyes still felt warm, but not like they were.  He carefully turned to Lex.  "Do they look okay?"

Lex cupped Clark's face with his hands and took a good look.  Clark couldn't believe he wasn't afraid.  It made him love Lex all the more. 

"They're tinted a little red, but I don't think anyone would notice if they weren't looking for it."

"Clark," Bruce said.  "I really don't have any designs on Lex.  I promise.  But we are friends, and we will touch, and you need to not do that again."

Clark could feel his face flaming and he covered his face with his hands again. 

"This is a very cool power," Tony enthused.  "Setting things on fire with your eyes.  Very handy on a camping trip.  Roasting marshmallows will be a breeze."

Clark snickered a little at that.  But he still didn't move his hands.

"Clark," Lex said softly.  "I'd like to tell you that this will be the last time one of your powers takes you by surprise, but it probably won't.  We all promise to love you no matter what you do.  So, come on out."

He finally let his hands drop, and winced at Bruce.  "I'm really sorry.  I just, I just don't like it when anyone touches Lex."

Tony put his hands up where Clark could see them.

"You really can't shoot flames at anyone who touches me," Lex said kindly. 

"I know that," Clark snapped.  "I didn't mean to.  It just happened."

"I know," Lex said.  "All of which means we'll need to work on that until we know you can control it.  But, meanwhile, setting stuff on fire with your eyes?  Very cool."

All of them started laughing at that, including Clark, and something else that had been coiled tight inside of him, making his stomach hurt whenever he thought about how freakish he was, started to relax.

* * *

**Washington, DC**

When Gibbs woke up it was almost one in the morning.  He stumbled downstairs and made some coffee, which he then brought to the basement with him.  He turned on the TV and sat down on the stool to catch some news.

It came on about mid-way through, and suddenly Gibbs was watching Tony on TV as he did the bodyguard spiel, escorting Martha and Clark into the limo, then watching over Bruce and Lex as they played court to the news and entertainment hordes.  They were a double catch because not only were they the financial breaking story, but they were also, according to one reporter's tagline, two of the country's most eligible bachelors.

Gibbs could have cared less.  He was glad that Lex didn't seem to be too worse off for giving up so much for Clark.  Gibbs had to admit that Tony looked good.  They all looked good.  Tony looked like he belonged among these other good-looking, rich men, even if the thought of it caused a surge of red-hot anger that Gibbs had to ruthlessly suppress.

Tony had wanted Gibbs to stay.  He had spoken as if he thought Gibbs could fit in as well as Tony; that Gibbs could just leave here, give his notice as easily as Tony had, and move to Metropolis.  Gibbs couldn't conceive of it.  He was good at what he did; he made a difference in people's lives.  He saved them, or sometimes put them behind bars, but he'd dedicated his life to helping this country's armed forces and her men and women, and Gibbs was proud of it.  He could be on his death bed and still be proud of it.  The part he didn't understand yet was that Tony had been proud of it, too.  Gibbs knew it.  And yet there he was, guarding two of the country's most talked about men, and looking proud to do it. 

Gibbs always thought he'd have Tony at his side.  Even if everyone else left him, he'd counted on Tony.  And maybe Tony was right, and Gibbs had taken advantage of Tony's weaknesses.  Taken advantage of the fact that Tony needed someone to be looking out for him, giving him some direction, counting on him.  Gibbs had just always assumed it would be him in that role.  He'd never expected that Tony would leave town for two days and find someone else to take over that job. 

If Clark hadn't been kidnapped, if Tony hadn't walked into a personal disaster and been propelled into an unexpected friendship with Lex, then maybe Gibbs would have had a chance.  But Lex was a leader--that much was clear in the short time Gibbs had known him--despite his age.  On top of that, he wasn't a bastard, at least not like Gibbs, and he was, at least according to Tony, willing to treat him with a respect Tony had found lacking in Gibbs.

What grated so much was that Gibbs did respect Tony.  He respected his whole team; it was why he had such high expectations.  He knew they could do the job.  And it was why he wouldn’t put up with their bullshit, because he knew they were better than that.  Every person who’d ever worked with him, assuming they were willing to talk to him after they left, told him they were a better agent for having worked with him.  That was a large part of his job, damn it.  Not just to solve cases, but to train the agents who would one day take over for him and the other older agents.  Mentoring the next generation.

No one had held his hand as he'd been trained.  Franks had been a bastard, probably more of one than Gibbs was, and Gibbs had turned into a fine agent.  And if Tony couldn't handle Gibbs' style of leadership, then it was just as well he was gone. 

Gibbs held that thought firm for at least a minute before remembering that Gibbs had to go into the office and do the job without Tony there.  As Abby had said: things were going to suck without Tony around.

* * *

Despite a severe lack of sleep, and despite the fact that technically he had the full week off, Gibbs was at work early Monday morning.  He decided there was no point in postponing the inevitable.  If this was Gibbs' life now, then he might as well get on with it.

As soon as McGee rounded the corner, Gibbs snapped, "Tony's not coming back.  Get on his computer and pull off any of his reports that aren't completed and get them done.  Then, clean it up for whoever takes his place."

McGee stared at him for a long moment until Gibbs' glare got through to him, and then he moved to his desk to toss his backpack down.  "He's not coming back?"

"Are you suddenly hard of hearing?" Gibbs asked.

There was a long pause.  "No, Boss, I'm not.  It was just a figure of speech, you know, expressing my, well, the fact that even though Tony could be a pain to work with, he still, you know, it, uh, he'll be missed."  McGee, thankfully, finished his rambling.

"Duly noted," Gibbs said.  He decided he'd let McGee tell Ziva, and headed up to MTAC to inform Vance that Tony wasn't coming back.  Vance would, no doubt, light a candle in silent thanksgiving at whatever church he went to on Sunday.

* * *

**Metropolis:**

"Goodbye, Jonathan," Martha said stiffly, hanging up the phone.  She sagged back on the couch in Lex's office.  It was just as well she was hours away from the man, because she'd be tempted to take a frying pan to his head.

Every conversation they had was worse than the last, as if Jonathan were being consumed by his hatred of all things Luthor.  Martha had known Jonathan could be intractable, but she’d never seen him like this. 

The worst of it, at least in Martha’s eyes, was that Jonathan seemed to think nothing of taking money from the man who kidnapped Clark, the man who would have had him raped if his buyers had wished it, and then sold him for almost four billion dollars.  She had brought it to Jonathan’s attention and while it had silenced him for a long moment, she knew that somehow, compared to Lex, at least in Jonathan’s mind, the man who’d kidnapped Clark paled in comparison.

Martha might have made more of a fuss about it if there wasn't a part of her that believed she’d never live in the rebuilt house.  Largely due to Jonathan and the fact that their marriage was unraveling at the seams, but also because even if Jonathan could find a way to live with it, Martha didn’t think she could.  She could only imagine that every time she walked from room to room, she'd remember where the money came from to build it.

Tired of thinking about Jonathan, Martha took stock of today’s plans.  Clark, Lex, and Tony were cleaning out Lionel's penthouse.  Fumigating it, were the words Lex had used.  They'd left Bruce's house in Gotham City early this morning, with plans to get together next weekend.

Bruce had promised her that none of the plans for Clark would come to fruition until he was eighteen, and Martha was glad of it.  She would have insisted if Lex and Bruce hadn't been clear about it.  Not to mention that they would need that much time to come up with an alter ego for Clark and to come up with a game plan.

Lex also wanted to see if he could lessen Clark's reaction to the meteor rocks before he made his debut.  None of them liked how it incapacitated Clark.  And while most people wouldn't know that, enough people did that it could be used against him once he went public with his powers.  For a brief moment, she wondered if this could be the type of thing Jonathan had tried to warn her about, several times, during this last phone call: Lex sticking his nose where it didn’t belong--Jonathan’s words--and having it blow up spectacularly in his face.

She imagined all the ways it could go wrong, Clark getting poisoned beyond recovery, Lex inadvertently mutating the rock into something even more lethal, him accidentally finding a way to use it as a weapon of mass destruction and the government catching wind of it and seizing it.

Martha snickered at that one.  It could all happen, but the truth was that she trusted Lex, and this time around, he’d have all the facts to help him get things right.  There was a second truth, which was that Clark was his own force of nature now, and everyone who stood by his side, especially Lex, was going to be caught in its maelstrom.  It would be up to her, and to Tony, and Bruce, and Alfred, and hopefully, Pete and Chloe and Jonathan, to hold firm and stand with Clark and Lex as they threw the entire world into a tailspin.

"Mom?"

Martha looked up and smiled as Clark came into the office.

"Lex says it's safe to go up," he said with a return smile.  "He ordered a new bed that will be delivered this afternoon, and he says you can have this couch if you want it."

She laughed at that, wondering how on earth Lex knew that she was half in love with it.  She also suspected she'd find it in their new suite even if she said no.  "I'd love it."

Clark beamed at that, as if she'd said exactly the right thing, bumbling her way to life with Lex.

"Then you need to get up," Clark said.  "Or I could try to carry it with you on it."

"I think I'll get up," Martha said, putting words to action as she stood.  She slipped the cell phone Lex had kindly provided her into her purse.

"So did you talk to dad?"

Martha nodded, trying to keep any reaction off her face.

"That bad, huh?" Clark asked, traces of anger on his face.

Martha gave her son a hug.  "He's trying to understand, but he's his own worst enemy.  I told him we were staying here at least until the end of the school year."

"Really?" Clark looked very relieved about that.

"Really."  She got out of Clark's way as he picked up the couch.  "I'll follow you.  I'm anxious to see my new temporary home."  Or new permanent home, depending on how things went.  She also felt that change that Clark had spoken of.  Things were different now.  Clark was changing in front of her eyes as he found himself surrounded by people who knew his secrets and loved him anyway, and even more, embraced that part of him.  Even if Bruce wasn't an alien, he had secrets to hide as well, and Martha had watched Clark's face as he'd been given membership to a club of two, so much vaster than his previous club of one.

Martha wasn't sure she'd fit in Smallville anymore.  But she also couldn't see Jonathan ever choosing to come here.  Jonathan was country through and through and the city would kill him.

She kept her sighs to herself, anticipating some rough seas ahead, and followed her couch-wielding son to the stairwell.

* * *

**NCIS Headquarters**

**August Year One**

"Tim, you can't leave," Abby wailed.  "You're the only one left who comes to visit me, besides Ducky.  Gibbs only comes down for cases now, and Ziva isn't human anymore, so it doesn't count even when she does come down."

It hadn't taken long after Tony left, with Gibbs ratcheting up his bastard side, to have Ziva reverting back to the unfriendly and suspicious person she'd been when she had first shown up.   

"I know," Tim said.  "And I'm sorry, but I can't do it anymore.  He won't promote me to senior agent, not that I'd want that anyway, but he expects me to do all the work.  I guess you and Ducky were right about Tony.  I never realized how much stuff he did, and I definitely didn't realize how much of Gibbs' bad moods he took on himself.  I'm not surprised he left, now."

Abby sagged down on her favorite stool.  Things had gone from bad to worse after Tony left, and she couldn't even imagine what things would be like after Tim left.  "Where are you going?"

"They want me back in the cyber unit, and at least I feel like I know what I'm doing there."

"Crap," Abby said.  "This sucks.  Okay, listen, do not tell Gibbs I said this, but Tony said that if any of us quit, meaning you, because you are quitting, right?"

Tim nodded.  "I just left my letter of resignation on Gibbs' desk."

She punched his arm.  "You did that without talking to me first?  I thought we were friends."

"We are," Tim said, rubbing his arm.  "And ow.  I just didn't want to take the chance that you'd talk me out of it.  Finish what you were saying about Tony."

"You miss him as bad as I do, don't you?" Abby said.

"Don't tell him, but yeah.  He was a jerk, but he sort of grew on me."

"Okay, so he said that he wouldn't actively steal anyone from Gibbs, but if someone was leaving that I knew was good, for me to let him know, because he had awesome jobs for everyone."

"Awesome jobs?" Tim asked, looking skeptical.

"I kid you not.  The guy works for Lex Luthor and Bruce Wayne.  Come on.  That alone would be awesome."

"Or terrifying."

"You worked for Gibbs," Abby said.  "Please.  No one is a bigger badass than that."

"I suppose.  What kind of job?"

"I don't know," Abby said.  "Call him."  She wrote Tony's number on a piece of paper. 

"How do you know he'd even be interested?"

"Because he mentioned you and me specifically."

"Not Ziva?"

"Ziva can't just take any job she wants, Tim," Abby reminded him.  "She's not exactly a free agent."

"How about Gibbs?"

"Tony told me he asked Gibbs to jump ship when Gibbs was out there, but Gibbs told him no."

"Have they talked?"

"I don't know," Abby said in a whisper.  "I don't talk about him when Gibbs is around.  It makes me sad to see the look on his face."  She pushed the paper at McGee.  "Call him.  At least see what he has in mind before you end up going back to a job you thought was boring."

"It wasn't boring."

"It was boring," Abby said.  "You were thrilled when Gibbs got you all back."

Tim looked like he wanted to argue, but Abby knew it was true.  "Call him."

"Okay, okay," Tim said.  His phone rang and he looked at it and grimaced.  "It's Gibbs."  He flipped it open.  "Yeah, boss.  Right away."  He shut it.  "He wants a conference."

Abby winced on his behalf.  "I hate that you're leaving, Tim, but I really don't blame you.  If it's the right thing to do, don't let him talk you out of it.  And when he asks what you're going to do, just tell him you're reviewing your options."

"He's gonna kill me."

"Not here, not where there are witnesses," Abby reassured him.

"Is that really supposed to make me feel better?"

"Yes, and get going before he has to call you again."

Tim looked like he was heading to the executioner's block, and Abby gave him a kiss on the cheek.  "You can do this."

"I can do this."

"And then leave town tonight to go see Tony.  Just in case."

"Abby."

"Kidding.  Gibbs won't kill you, I promise."

With one last hopeless glare, Tim headed up toward the firing squad.

Knowing Gibbs would be busy at least for a few moments, she called Tony to give him a heads up.

* * *

**Metropolis Airport**

**September Year One**

"Tim!" Tony yelled out as Tim got off the plane, right at the gate where Tony shouldn't be.

"Tony," Tim said in actual delight.  It was good to see the man.  "How did you get up here?"

"Thanks to Lex and Bruce I've got some pretty high security clearance," Tony said.  "Cool, huh?"

"You look good.  This new life of yours must agree with you."

"The new life is great.  Did you check a bag?"

"No," Tim said, slinging his backpack over his shoulder.  "You said I didn't need formal clothes.  I don't, do I?"  It would be just like Tony to say he didn't, and then announce that he was supposed to be wearing a suit and tie for a day of interviews.

"Nope.  And no interviews.  I mean, you need to meet Lex and Bruce, but if I say I want you, you're in."

Tim tried hard not to be impressed but he was.  He noticed they weren't heading for the normal door.  "Where are we going?"

"To one of the best things about this job," Tony said with a grin, as he flashed an ID and was let through a non-descript grey door.  About five minutes later they were on the tarmac and Tony was getting in a helicopter.  And by getting in, Tim meant that Tony was the pilot.

"What are you doing?"

"Taking you back to LexCorp," Tony said, shutting the door, putting on a headset, and starting to flick switches.

Tim slowly got in.  "Since when--"

Tony interrupted him by handing him a headset.  "Can't hear a thing you're saying, Probie."

Tim rolled his eyes but put on the headset.  "Since when do you fly helicopters?"

"Since I started working with Lex.  He brought someone in to teach me, wanted me to know how to fly in case a pilot I'm ever with can't fly for some reason.  I loved it, so now I fly whenever I can."  He grinned at Tim.  "You can learn to, if you want.  Ever want to fly a helicopter?"

Tim touched the dashboard, not even knowing if that was the right word.  "Hell, yeah."

"He'll probably give you one, too.  This one is mine."

"Yours?" Tim gaped.  "You have your own helicopter?"

"Told you it was a great job.  You really need one."  Tony called for clearance, and a minute later he was in the air.  "I have to go between Gotham City and Metropolis all the time, and a car takes too long.  Plus, I occasionally have to go to Smallville, and this is much faster."

"What's in Smallville?"

"The kid I bodyguard for, his dad lives there.  He goes to visit every now and then."

"Where's his mom?"

"They live in Metropolis."

Tim was impressed with how easily Tony flew the chopper.  It was like he'd been doing it his whole life.  "So what's this job about?"

"Cool toys, Tim. Coolest toys you'll ever see."

"I worked in the cyber unit, Tony.  I worked with some of the best toys the government has."

Tony sent him an excited look.  "Tim.  Forget about that.  These are the coolest toys you will ever see. Trust me on that.  The government doesn't have the time, money, or the imagination to create the stuff Lex makes.  He's like a kid in a candy store.  You and he will get along great.  He's an even bigger geek than you."

"Hey," Tim protested, even as he was jazzed at the chance to see what Tony was talking about.

"Just calling it like I see it, Elf Lord.  Oh, I told Lex you were an Elf Lord."

"Great," Tim snapped.  "Thanks a lot."  All he needed was to get harassed on day one by his new potential boss.

"You're welcome," Tony said with one of his trademark grins.

Tim couldn't help but grin back.  It was good to see Tony.

Metropolis came into view fairly quickly, and they landed on the roof of the highest building, next to six other helicopters.  Someone was waiting for them.  Someone bald.  "Is that Lex Luthor?"

"The one and only," Tony said.  Tony was looking around and he was frowning.  "Damn him."

"Why?  What's the matter?"

"I keep telling him not to go anywhere without his security but here he is, on the roof of the building, an easy shot for anyone with a sniper rifle.  Idiot."  Tony gently set the helicopter down, shut everything off, took off his headset and was out on the roof haranguing Lex Luthor before Tim even had his head set off. 

He got out and made his way to where the two men were arguing. 

"Tony, I'm fine."

"I'm going to tell Clark," Tony threatened.

"You do, and I'll tell him you kissed me."

Tony's mouth opened.  "You would not."  Then he started laughing.  "You asshole."

Lex joined in on the laughter.  "No, I wouldn't.  He'd set me on fire."  He noticed Tim and put his hand out.  "You must be Tim McGee, I'm Lex Luthor.  Call me Lex.  Tony's spoken very highly of you."

Tim shot a surprised look Tony's way, and Tony just shrugged.

In a couple of minutes they were in what Tim assumed was Lex's office, and he was being handed his choice of soft drinks.  "Tony tells me you play World of Warcraft," Lex said.

"I do," Tim said darkly, narrowing his eyes in Tony's direction. 

Tony just grinned at him.

"Horde, I assume?"

"Uh, yeah," Tim said, surprised.

"What's your main character?"

"Blood elf."

"I thought you were an Elf Lord," Tony protested.

"That's my name, not what I am."  To Lex, he added, "You play?"

"Warrior.  Let me guess, spirit and intellect?"

"Yes," Tim said, amazed now at how Lex had just guessed.  "You?"

"Strength and stamina."

"He wants to take over the world," another man said fondly as he entered the room.  "I'm Clark Kent," he said, shaking Tim's hand.

"He's the kid I'm watching," Tony said.

"Would you stop making it sound as if you're babysitting me?" Clark said, exasperated.

Tim gaped at Clark.  He was, as Abby would say, hot.  They all were.  Not that Tim swung that way, but he could tell when a man was handsome.

"I don't want to take over the world," Lex argued.

"No, you just want to run it your way," Clark teased.  "He enters the tournaments, you know.  He's won the last five."

"You're Agamemnon?" Tim asked in amazement.

"Yup," Clark said proudly.  "In the flesh."

"Wow," Tim said.  He mustered enough brain cells to say, "Why haven't you become a paladin?"

"Too easy," Lex said.  "Are you just a blood elf?"

"No, I'm a priest, too."

Tony made a derogatory scoffing noise.  "You named yourself Elf Lord and you're a priest, too?  How is it that the babes aren't falling for you left and right?"

"Don't underestimate a priest in the games, Tony.  They can be essentially invulnerable," Lex said.

Tim thought Lex was his new favorite person.  "Thank you.  It's so nice to talk with someone who actually understands."  Then he remembered that Tony had been the one to tell Lex about the fact that he played.  He sent a thankful look Tony's way, and Tony just grinned.

"And, hey, Clark, this is the guy who wrote Deep Six," Tony said.

Clark's eyes opened wide, and he smiled.  "You're Thom Gemcity?"

Tim nodded, surprised to find how much Tony had talked about the pieces of his life.  "I am."

"I love your books."

“Thanks.”  Tim was going to like it here.

To Clark, Lex said, "Aren't you supposed to be in school?"

"I’m on break, Lex," Clark said with a scowl.  "I am allowed out of my cage on occasion, you know."

"Forgive me for sounding as if I thought otherwise," Lex said, wrapping an arm around Clark's shoulder and pulling him in for a brief hug.  "I thought I'd show Tim around.  Do you want to come?"

"Can't," Clark said, "I'm not on that long of a break."

Tim guessed there was something more going on between Lex and Clark than whatever--actually, he had no idea what was going on between them, as he'd never met Clark, and he barely knew Lex.  Better just to say that there were some strong feelings there. 

"Then I'll see you later.  Talk to your mom.  Maybe we can all go out for dinner tonight.  Show Tim the town."

"Sounds good," Clark said.  He waved at Tim.  "Welcome aboard, assuming you want aboard.  After you hear what these guys have to say you might want to run for your life."  With a last smile, he walked out.

"That's who you bodyguard?" Tim asked.  "He's bigger than you."

"Hey, no mocking the vertically challenged," Tony complained.

"Clark is special," Lex said.  "And Tony says you can be trusted.  Can you?"

Tim felt like Lex was trying to see into his soul.  Touched that Tony had already vouched for him, Tim nodded.  "I can."

Lex studied him for another long moment then nodded.  "I believe you.  I have a story to tell you, and then we need to go to Bruce Wayne's house where you can see all the cool tech." 

Tim's eyes lit up in response.  "Okay."

"Even if you don't take the job," Tony said.  "You can't tell anyone about any of this."

"About any of what?"

"Anything you hear.  This is amazing stuff, Tim."

"It is," Lex said.  "We're building the future, right here, right now, and you can be a part of it.  But we're not ready to go public, so no one knows outside of a few trusted people."

Tim had essentially been hooked by the helicopter thing.  Then, having a WOW legend as his boss?  Abby would die.  And Tim could see something different about Tony.  He was still just as goofy, but he was more settled.  Less needy, less acting out to get attention.  Whatever was going on here was doing good things for him.  "I think I'm in, but either way, I won't say a word."

"Let's go to Bruce's first," Tony suggested.  "After he sees the toys, I guarantee he'll be in."

"We have some toys here," Lex said.

"Yeah, but not the uber toys."

Snickering, Lex gestured to the door.  "Tony, did you want to fly?"

"Nah, let Rich fly.  I already told Julia."

"Great," Lex said as he followed Tony and Tim out the door.  To Julia, he said, "We'll be back by six.  Make reservations at seven for someplace that will make an impression on our guest."

Julia smiled and nodded.  "I know just the place.  All of you?"

"Let's assume so until I hear otherwise.  Is Rich ready?"

"Standing by on the roof."

With that, Tim was escorted back to the roof, where they got in the fanciest helicopter he'd ever seen. 

"This one is Lex's," Tony told him.

Somehow that didn't surprise Tim at all.

* * *

**NCIS Headquarters**

Tim looked dazed when he showed up for his last week of work, after visiting Tony and accepting the job.

"How was it?" Abby asked when he came down to the lab.

"Abby," Tim said.  "I've never seen anything like it.  You have to go work for them."

"I can't leave Gibbs," she said.  "I can't."  At least she couldn't now.  But Abby was afraid that the time was coming when the bad days would outnumber the good days, and she'd have to either leave or go crazy.  Even Ducky was talking about retiring.

"You don't know what you're missing.  Tony told me they had the coolest toys he'd ever seen, and he's right.  They're hiring me as their CIO, and they're paying me four times what I make here.  Four.  And I get to learn how to fly a helicopter, and then I get one.  It's the company car."

"Oh, my God, I am so jealous," Abby shrieked.

"Lex is so great.  He's Agamemnon on WOW."

"Get out of here," Abby said, stunned.  She didn't play much, but there weren't too many people who played WOW who didn't know who Agamemnon was, considering his winning streak. 

She loved Gibbs, she did, and thinking about wanting another boss felt like being unfaithful, but she missed the old Gibbs.  This Gibbs never smiled anymore.  He still brought her CafPows but it felt more a duty and less like love.  She knew he still loved her, but he was one hurting puppy, and the only way Gibbs knew how to cope was to get crabbier so people would stay away.

"I'm serious.  And he defended me being a priest to Tony."

Abby just let out a happy sigh. 

"They're doing amazing stuff, Abs.  Lex said they're building the future, and I wish I could tell you, but I can't."

"Why's it all such a big secret?"

"I can't tell you that, either."

Gibbs chose that second to swing into Abby's lab.  "What've you got for me?"

Abby pushed her rolling stool away from where she'd been talking to Tim, which propelled her across the room.  "Nada.  It's still looking for a match.  Ducky hasn't brought me the bullets yet."

"We have a case?" Tim asked.

"Something we picked up yesterday," Gibbs said.

"I thought we weren't on call this weekend," Tim said.

"We weren't.  But I was here when the call came in, so I took it.  The team on call had another case they were working."

"Busy weekend," Abby threw in.

"I thought you were going to the Cyber Unit, McGee," Gibbs said.

"I thought about it, but I'm doing something else."  Tim hoped Gibbs would leave it alone.  Lately he didn't seem remotely interested with any of their personal lives.  Not that he ever had, but now it was like they didn't exist unless they were working.

"Like what?" Gibbs snapped, unfortunately choosing now to care about Tim's life.

"Uh, I'm moving to Metropolis," Tim said with a wince.  "I'll be working with Tony."

"He lure you away from me?" Gibbs asked in a dangerous tone.

"No, no, boss, he didn't.  I didn't even know there was a job on the table until after I gave my notice."

"Tony would never steal us from you," Abby scolded Gibbs.  "He cares about you too much to do that."

"He's got a funny way of showing it," Gibbs bristled then stalked out of the lab.

Tim and Abby stared unhappily at each other, then Abby went back to her machines, and Tim went back upstairs to his desk.  He had reports to close out, and a desk to empty.  He had a feeling it was going to be a long week.

* * *

**Gibbs' basement**

**November Year One**

That night, Gibbs sat on the bench as he watched the news, a glass of bourbon in one hand.  Tim leaving to work with Tony still rankled.  He believed Tim that Tony hadn't lured him away, but Tony still knew how much Gibbs depended on McGee.  Of course, if Gibbs had this conversation with Tony right now, Tony would just ask him if McGee knew that.  Ask if Gibbs had bothered to thank the man, or tell him he'd done a good job.

He took a sip of his drink.  No one told Gibbs he'd done a good job.  Vance had better things to do with his time than pat Gibbs on the back.  All Gibbs had was the satisfaction of a job well done, and it worked just fine for him.

The regular news was suddenly cut into, the reporter saying, "This just in, an attempt was made on Lex Luthor's life just a few minutes ago.  There is no information as to his condition, but we have been told that he is alive.  Two other people were hurt at the scene.  Stay tuned to this station for more information."  And then they were back at the studio, and the two talking heads were looking somber and wondering what had happened, and then they went to an advertisement about scrubbing bubbles.

Gibbs blinked at the screen, and found his phone in his hand.  He was calling Tony before he'd consciously made the decision to call.

"Gibbs!" Tony yelled into the phone.  "Can't really talk now."

"You're okay?"

"Yeah, I didn't get hurt."

"What happened?  I thought you were supposed to be watching him."

"No, I watch Clark.  Mark Hudson assigns his top people to watch Lex, but he's worse than you.  Lex, I mean.  He thinks he's the invulnerable one.  Freaking jerk.  Yeah, you," Tony said, confusing Gibbs for a minute, "I'm talking about you."

Gibbs finally figured out that Tony was right there with Lex.  "He really is alive, then?"  The news people said he was alive, but you couldn't always trust what you heard. 

"Yeah, he's alive.  He took a bullet though.  He snuck out of the restaurant before his security.  I don't want to hear it, Lex.  If you die, you get how screwed we all are?  Idiot.  Sorry, Gibbs, like I said, I can't really talk right now."

Now that Gibbs had Tony on the phone, he didn't really want to get off.  He thought maybe Tony didn't either, which would explain why Tony kept saying he couldn't talk, but then stayed on the line.  "Can't say I think much of his security if he keeps slipping by them."

"No shit," Tony said.  "You need to come out here and take over the job.  Even Lex couldn't get around you."

Gibbs felt a flush of heat at the praise. 

"Lex, stay still.  I mean it.  Clark is fine.  I sent him home with Rich and half the security staff.  Rich already called, and Clark is in the Penthouse, so relax, okay?"

"How did you get Clark to leave Lex?"

"By being the one to stay.  There was no way they could act normal around each other, and the last thing I need is for a) Clark to start kissing Lex in public and b) for Clark to use his powers in public to protect Lex.  Clark's not exactly rational when it comes to Lex getting hurt.  What?  Fine, fine, give me your phone.  Hold on, Gibbs." 

Gibbs listened as Tony called Clark and then obviously handed Lex the phone as he could hear Lex asking, "Clark, are you okay?"

"Jesus," Tony said back in the phone.  "The two of them drive me nuts."

Gibbs could hear the fondness in Tony's tone, belying his words.

"I miss you," Tony said suddenly.  "A lot.  Why don't you come and visit.  Take a weekend."

"I understand Tim's working with you."

"You heard that?"

"I heard.  I don't appreciate you taking my staff, DiNozzo."

"I didn't take him away from you," Tony said heatedly.  "I would never do that.  You were the one who pushed him out the door.  I'm just keeping him from going homeless.  A Tim McGee who's looking for a job is free game."

Gibbs wanted to argue, but Tony was only telling the truth.  Gibbs also wanted to tell Tony that he missed him, too, like he was missing a leg or half his heart.  All he said, though, was, "Try not to get shot."  Then he hung up.

* * *

**Metropolis**

Tony looked at the now dead phone in his hand, said, "Asshole," then put it back in its belt holster.  He found himself grinning, though, as he watched Lex finish up his conversation with Clark. 

"Convinced he's okay now?" Tony said as Lex hung up.

"Yes," Lex said.  "Why am I still on the ground?"

"Because the ambulance hasn't gotten here yet."

"I don't want to go to the hospital."

"You have to, for appearances.  They'll do what they need to do, and then we'll take you home and you can heal at your own pace with your personal Attila the Hun to nursemaid you."  There was a significant amount of space between Lex, ten security personnel and all the onlookers.  Tony made sure to crouch between Lex and the closest group of people, knowing how much Lex hated to be gawked at.  "I can hear the sirens now.  You know they'll see you right away once we get to the emergency room so we can probably have you home in less than two hours."

Lex made a face but just then the ambulance arrived, sirens and lights blazing.  He tried to get up, but Tony pushed him down.  "Stay down."

"Why?"

"Because you fell hard and your head is bleeding, and I want them to check you out with some x-rays before you start moving."

Surprisingly, Lex acquiesced, which actually worried Tony, and he watched as the ambulance staff quickly got Lex situated with a neck brace, then on a board, and then onto a stretcher.  They tried to tell Tony to meet them at the hospital, but Tony flashed his ID and got in the ambulance along with Lex.  He wanted to make sure there wasn't something else going on with Lex other than the obvious. 

"I'm okay, Tony," Lex said, obviously seeing the concern on his face.  "My head is just killing me and talking was making it worse."

Tony was willing to accept that as the truth, but he'd still be watching Lex like a hawk.  "Just close your eyes and don't talk, then.  I'll be with you all the way."

Lex nodded, winced, and closed his eyes.  His faith in Tony was heartwarming, and Tony felt like slapping Lex upside the head for taking such stupid chances.  He sat back and watched the staff clean off his head wound and take his vital signs.  Nothing seemed particularly worrisome, so Tony relaxed a little, and waited for the trip to end.

* * *

**Gibbs' basement**

The next night, Gibbs found himself calling Tony again.  "Who did it?"  There'd been nothing on the news, but Gibbs would bet that Hudson had figured it out, and while he was at it, ripped into whatever security had let Lex walk outside alone.

"Some crazy woman."

"Why?"

"LuthorCorp had a lot of charity foundations, and while all previous commitments are being honored, in light of the fact that LutherCorp is no more, the foundations have closed while Lex figures out which ones he'd like to keep going."

"And?"

"And this was someone who had already decided she was going to be this year's recipient of one of the scholarships to school, and didn't take kindly to the fact that Lex wasn't handing one out this year."

"Crazy."

"You got it.  Something about Lex attracts the crazies.  Him and Bruce.  And Clark.  I'm in crazy central here."

"Lex okay?"

"He's fine.  He heals really quick.  He got exposed to the meteor rock when he was a kid, apparently he was at ground zero when Clark landed, and it made all his hair fall out but gave him super healing in exchange.  He considers it a fair trade."

"How's Clark?"

"Not leaving Lex's side and barely talking to me for making him leave.  He understands why, but he's not happy about it."

"He'll get over it."

"I doubt it.  I mean, he'll get over being mad at me, but he won't ever get over thinking he should be the one saving Lex.  Lex has bigger plans for Clark than for Clark to become his bodyguard."

"What's that mean?"  Gibbs liked Lex, but it didn't mean that Lex had the right to dictate what Clark was supposed to do with his life.

"Oh, don't worry, Clark is totally sold on the idea.  He's being home schooled right now by some amazing tutors.  I've sat in some days and I think I've learned more over the past three months than all of high school combined.  We're all working on how to let Clark shine, if you know what I mean.  I don't really want to say much on an open line, but I will say that Clark took his first flying lesson last night."

Gibbs didn't follow for a minute, and then he did, and he felt breathless with the realization that Clark could fly.

"He took me up for a few minutes and it was awesome."

"I'd like to see that."

"Come visit, Jethro.  I really miss you."

"I'm down two team members, Tony.  I can't leave."

"Why two?  I thought you got a fourth."

"They left after three weeks."

"What'd you do to them?"

"Expect them to talk to me in full sentences."

Tony snickered.  "Were they too busy wetting their pants?"

"Something like that."

"So it's just you and Ziva?"

"That's right."

"So, it's a good time to leave, then.  Ziva will survive, and you won't be leaving anyone behind."

"The answer's no, but even if it wasn't, Hudson's not my biggest fan."

"Hudson's loyal to Lex.  If Lex wanted you, he'd take you in a minute.  And if I want you, Lex will."

"The answer's still no.  Give Lex, Martha, and Clark my regards."

"I'm not going to stop asking," Tony said.

"And I won't stop saying no," Gibbs told him.

"Asshole," Tony said then hung up.

Gibbs grinned at the phone, flipped it shut, and put his unfinished glass of bourbon down, deciding that maybe he could sleep tonight.

* * *

 

**Metropolis**

Late that night, Clark lay in bed next to Lex, his head perched on one hand, elbow resting on the bed, while he ran the other one over Lex's scalp, avoiding the bruised area.  "How's your headache?"

"Fine now that you're here," Lex murmured, his eyes closed.

"I wish you wouldn't do such stupid stuff," Clark said.

"I know.  I'm sorry.  I don't do it on purpose.  I just think I ought to have the right to walk outside without asking permission.  I don’t want to be a prisoner."

"I can take you anywhere in the world you want to go in minutes.  You'll never be a prisoner with me."

Lex opened his eyes and stared up at Clark.  "I know.  And I'll take you up on that as soon as the media attention stops.  I think we better lay low right now."

"Where do you want to go?" Clark asked.

"Antarctica, I think.  I'm in the mood for penguins."

Clark snorted.  "Okay.  But you have to dress warm."  They stared at each other for a while, and Clark basked in the love in Lex's eyes.  "I love you, you know.  I can't do any of this without you."

"Yes, you can," Lex said seriously.

"I don't want to."

"I'll try not to ever let that happen."  Lex pulled him down and kissed him gently on the lips.  "I shouldn't have done that, but I love you, too."

Clark groaned at him.  "You sure we have to wait?"

"Yes.  Now lie down and let me sleep, or go away."

Clark lay down and pulled Lex close to his body.  "I'm still gonna hug you."

"I'm counting on it," Lex mumbled as he yawned again.

* * *

Lex was the only one in the spacious kitchen when Martha joined him for breakfast.  Lex had connected the two suites with a door, and they all tended to come over to Lex's for breakfast.  Lex was already dressed for work, a plate with crumbs on it and a half filled cup of coffee sitting in front of him. 

"Good morning," Martha said, dropping a kiss on Lex's head.

"Hmm, good morning," he said.  "I never get tired of that."

She smiled at him as she helped herself to some fruit salad Lex's housekeeper always had made up.  She added yogurt and some granola, and sat down.  "How's your head?"

"Fine," he said.  He turned his head to her so she could see that there was barely a bruise there.

"You scared us," she said.  That was an understatement.  Clark had been a maniac, only his fear that he would hurt someone keeping him from tossing everyone to the side and leaving straight through a wall.  Martha had been sick with worry until Tony had called Clark to talk to Lex.  Martha had insisted she go to the ER to sit with Lex while he was examined.  Clark had relaxed a little at that, knowing Martha and Tony would be with Lex. 

Martha knew in the two nights since it had happened that Clark had stayed with Lex.  She'd been a bit worried the first night, but it was clear that nothing had happened.  She'd had to bite her lips to keep from smiling at the look of frustration on Clark's face.  Lex was much better at hiding it, but it had to be even harder on Lex to suddenly find himself on an unexpected two year stint of celibacy.  If it wasn't for Jonathan, she might just tell them to go ahead, because she had no doubts that the two of them were meant to be together. 

But, despite the fact that Jonathan was trying, at least according to him, it was still clear to everyone, especially Clark and Lex, that Jonathan didn’t trust Lex as far as he could throw him.  Martha wished she could beat some sense into the man, clueless to the fact that in his blind desperation to keep his family safe from Lex's machinations, he was losing said family. 

In loyalty to Lex, Clark was beginning to distance himself from his dad, his trips home happening less frequently.  Martha had gone to spend a weekend there, but hadn't felt at all inclined to sleep with her husband, and had called Tony to come pick her up earlier than expected. 

Tony had taken one look at her, offered to go beat the shit out of Jonathan--which had made her feel much better--and flown her immediately to her new home, back to Metropolis, where her son and future son-in-law lived, and where she now had two brothers, Tony and Bruce, and a frightening but astonishing future to look forward to.

She'd asked Lex if he wanted her to take a look at all the charity foundations currently on hold, and see if she could help him decide which ones were worth keeping open.  He'd looked so relieved, she'd been doubly glad she asked.  She was excited about doing the work, excited about getting some of them up and running again, and being intimately involved in the process.  Julia was pulling all the records, and Martha was looking forward to digging in.  Lex said he was going to petition the Catholic Church to canonize her. 

Keith and Laura, the only two lawyers who had stayed the distance with Lex, would be working with her.  They had already been setting up a foundation that would, in time, be the vehicle through which they could fund Bruce and Clark and their endeavors, as well as provide any legal assistance they needed, so assisting Martha on the other foundation work made perfect sense to everyone.  Martha liked them both very much and would be glad for the help and legal advice.  

Lex was slowly recuperating financially.  It had been an uphill battle, not everyone believing the hype Bruce and Lex had been selling, but things were turning around, and business that had dropped away from LexCorp was starting to return.

It might have rebounded faster if not for Lex having the time of his life playing in Bruce's labs, designing toys for Bruce and Clark to use when they started their quest for justice.  They'd chosen Clark's eighteenth birthday as the day they'd go public, but there was so much groundwork to lay out first, determining everything from what they could legally and ethically do, to the pragmatics of establishing the ability to communicate with Clark no matter what corner of the world he found himself in.

Although, Martha also knew that as fast as Lex designed things, Bruce’s lawyers were applying for patents, which would put money in both their pockets.

Tim McGee was handling most of the communication challenges.  Martha liked him very much, and Tony was thrilled to have him on board.  She could tell that Tim liked Tony, too, even if they were both old hands at mercilessly teasing each other.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Lex said, breaking into her silent reverie.

"You'd be wasting your money," she said with a smile.  "Just thinking about everything that's happened in the last six months and what's still to come.  Nothing you don't already know."

"I'm sorry things aren't going well with Jonathan," he said quietly.  "If I could give you anything, it would be that.  But," he added wryly, "there are some things that money can't make all right."

She reached across the table and squeezed his hand.  "It's all right.  I mean, it's not, of course, but I suspect, even if your father hadn't died, and you'd stayed in Smallville, that we'd have been catapulted into this crisis sooner or later."

"Sometimes I think about what might have happened," Lex said, "if Clark and I would have been able to stay friends amidst the lies.  What I might have done, eventually, in retaliation, when I couldn't stomach it anymore.  I'm sure that not everything Jonathan says about me is a lie.  I do have my father's blood in me."

"But not his venom," Martha promised him.  "I trust you.  Clark trusts you, and so does Tony.  Not to mention Bruce, and your amazing staff.  That's a lot of people who have your vote and would take your side.  How many people do you think ever really trusted your father?"

Lex gave that question some thought.  "I would venture to say that nobody trusted my father."  

"And isn't that a sad epitaph?" she said.  "Not trusted or trusting.  He never even bothered to take his soul out for a test run.  He missed out on the best parts of life."

"He would have disagreed."

"He would have been wrong."  She'd been watching Lex fight with the demons his father had left behind, deeply planted in his son, and she hoped, one day, he'd be able to let them go.  "Would you want to be your father?  Or would you rather have our love?"

"Do you have to ask?" Lex said. 

"No, I don't.  And that's why you'll never be him.  Ever.  Because you understand what's important, more than almost anyone I know."

Martha could see in his eyes that he had reached his saturation point with hearing good things about himself.  Too much, and he started discounting what was being said.  She'd learned to dole it out in small bits, stopping the minute she saw him start to tense.  "I understand Clark is taking you to Antarctica."

Lex smiled.  "I'm doing some research, trying to find a time when we're least likely to run into people down there, given that this is the heavy tourist season.  I've always wanted to go, but haven't ever felt I had the time for a two week trip."

"Take pictures."

This time Lex laughed.  "For our hour long trip to Antarctica?"

"I'm not flying all that way for an hour," Clark said as he came in, still in his pajamas, kissing first his mom and then Lex.  "We have to stay at least two hours."

"See?" Martha said.  "You can take hundreds of pictures in two hours."

"We'll take a picnic lunch with us," Clark added with a grin.  "Along with whatever it is penguins like to eat."

"Sounds perfect," Lex said.  "And on that note," as he finished up his cup of coffee, "I need to get to work."

This time he did the kissing, kissing Clark quickly on the lips, and Martha on the cheek, and then heading downstairs via the elevator.

Clark helped himself to most of the fruit salad, leaving some for Tony, and then threw a bagel in the toaster.  He poured himself a large glass of orange juice, drank it, and filled it up again, finishing off the container.  As he got out the milk, Martha felt a moment's gratitude that Lex was financially responsible for feeding Clark right now. 

"You sure you're strong enough to fly all the way to Antarctica?"

"We'll stop if I get tired, but it feels effortless once I'm up there.  Any place you'd like to go?"

"Paris, maybe," she mused.  "Rome."

"Just let me know.  Lex will get us hotel rooms so we can arrive late at night when it's dark."

"Air Superman," she said.  "Oops."  Martha covered her mouth.  The official name hadn't been chosen, but everyone was using Superman, much to Clark's dismay.

"I hate that name," Clark said.  "It's so embarrassing."

"It's not you that will have that name," she said, something Lex had told Clark several times, "it's your powers, which are pretty super."  In addition to the heat vision, Clark now had super hearing, but it tended to backfire on him, flicking in and out until everything was too soft or way too loud.

"I know," Clark said with a frown.  Then he grinned shyly, "Lex wants to make the S look like the front of Alexander's breast plate."

It fascinated Martha how eager Clark was for any evidence that he truly did belong to Lex.  She had always seen Clark's need to belong, but never this strongly.  It made her wonder if she was seeing something instinctive on a cellular level, something alien, in play.  Not that Lex didn't mimic the same behavior back, so maybe it was just the two of them, two sides of the same coin.

"Ugh," Tony said, walking in, his hair all over the place, looking like he'd just rolled out of bed.  He was staying with Martha and Clark in their suite for the time being.  The place was huge, with bedroom suites to spare, and Martha had been glad for his company.  It wouldn't be for much longer; Lex was having the floor below turned into four apartments.

Martha thought one was for Bruce when he visited, and one would be for Tony.  She had no idea who else would end up living nearby, but Lex was clearly the sort who wanted all the people he cared about close at hand.

"Coffee?" Martha asked, getting up.

Tony grunted something indistinguishable, and she took it as a yes, pouring him a cup, handing him a spoon, and pushing the sugar closer.  She exchanged an amused look with Clark, and then rose.  "I plan to start working on straightening out the LuthorCorp foundations today.  I'll be in the conference room if you need me."

"Need some help?" Clark asked.

"No, not right now.  I need to read everything first and get the lay of the land.  Keith and Laura are helping me with that.  But thanks."  She smiled at Clark and then at Tony, who was sitting there with his eyes closed, his nose buried in his coffee cup.  She felt such a strong sense of family, that it squeezed her heart.  In good spirits, she made her way out of the kitchen.

* * *

**Gibbs' basement**

**December Year One**

His phone rang, and he frowned as he reached for it.  He expected it to be a case, not looking forward to some rookie stammering out inadequate details.  Instead, he saw Tony's name come up.  "Gibbs."

"DiNozzo," Tony said back in the same tone.

Gibbs felt a smile on his face, recognizing that it had been a while since it had last appeared.  "To what do I owe the dubious pleasure?"

"Just missing you," Tony confessed.

Gibbs felt far too pleased by that remark.

"And I have a question for you."

"What is it?" Gibbs asked.

"I still love you, you know.  The head over heels stuff."

"And?"

"And I was wondering how you felt about me.  You never really said.  You kissed me once and then left.  Are you bisexual?"

Gibbs wasn't sure if he wanted to have this conversation.  He wasn't clear what there was to be gained by it.  In fact, he asked that question first.  "Why do you want to know?  If I say yes, are you coming home or are we still going to be stuck in two different states?"

"That's a fair question, I guess, even if it sucks," Tony said.  "I'm guessing stuck in two states."

"So, why go there at all?"

"Because I want to know.  I want to know if we even had a chance, or if that kiss was to try to get me home."

"That kiss--" Gibbs stopped and thought about it.  "It was and it wasn't.  I wanted you to come home.  I'd have done just about anything to get you there."

"Anything?  You mean I could have gotten sex out of it?" Tony said in teasing tones.

Gibbs found himself missing Tony fiercely, the way he always seemed so fearless when it came to Gibbs, saying whatever he wanted, no matter how crazy it was.

"Yeah, you probably could have.  But that wouldn't have happened until we were back in DC."

"To keep me there?"

"No."

"Because you'd have wanted it, too?"

"Yeah, DiNozzo.  Because I'd have wanted it, too."

"It was a great kiss."

"Not great enough," Gibbs said.

"Maybe when compared to the drama going on that night, and the responsibilities I had to my family, but when compared to other kisses, it was right up there."

Gibbs heard some shifting around.  "Are you getting off while you're talking to me?"

"No, but I'd like to be."

"I'm not going to have phone sex with you."

"Yeah, okay.  Stupid idea.  Why don't you come visit?  Then we can have actual sex."

"Why don't you come visit?" Gibbs countered.  "And we can have sex here."

"I can do that."

"You can do that?"  Gibbs hadn't really expected Tony to say yes.

"If you had a heliport on the roof of your house, I could be there in about four hours."

"Helicopters can't fly that fast." 

"Lex's can."

"This isn't a good idea."

"Yeah, I figured you'd say that as soon as I pushed.  But think about it.  Lots of people have long-distance relationships."

"I haven't changed, Tony.  I'm still as much a bastard as ever, and some would say more.  Last I checked in, you weren't interested in me that way."

"I know.  I guess absence really does make the heart grow fonder."

Gibbs grinned at that.  "You can still come back."

"I can't.  But you can still come here.  Lex is still being stupid and going out on his own.  He needs someone who won't take no for an answer."

Gibbs was astonished to find himself a little bit interested.  All he said was, "It's late."

"Sure you don't want to have phone sex?"

"I'm sure," Gibbs said, finding that he was grinning again.  Maybe he could find a smile for Abby tomorrow.

"Clark could have me there in about five minutes, you know," Tony said.

"I'll keep it in mind."

"He could have you here in ten."

"I'll keep that in mind, too."

"I miss you."

"You keep saying that."

"I keep feeling that," Tony said.  "Do you miss me?"

Gibbs paused for a minute, not sure if answering yes could even begin to convey how much he missed the man.  "Yeah, Tony, I do."

There was a sigh over the phone.  "Okay.  This sucks, but okay.  I'll talk to you later."  Tony hung up.

Yeah, it did suck, but for some reason, Gibbs still found himself grinning.

* * *

**NCIS Headquarters**

"You're smiling," Abby said.

Gibbs handed her a CafPow.  "I know."

"I haven't seen you smile since Tony left.  Why are you smiling?  Not that I'm not thrilled to see you smiling, I just don't understand why.  Is Tony coming back?"

"No, Abs, he's not."

"But?  I hear a but."

"I talked to him last night."

Abby grinned.  "A good talk?"

"Yeah, it was a good talk."

"I always feel better after I talk to Tony," Abby said.  "I always end up smiling."  Her mouth dropped open.  "Oh, my God, you, too!"

"Apparently, I'm not immune."

Abby wished the smile would stay.  Gibbs always looked ten years younger when he smiled.  But she suspected it would vanish once he got upstairs.  "How are your new guys?"

"Who?  Vinnie and Brian?"

"Gibbs, it's Vince and Bryant.  How can you expect them to stay if you can't even remember their names?"  And yup, there went the smile.  "Sorry, Gibbs, I lost your smile for you.  Maybe you need to talk to Tony again."

"I'm tired," Gibbs found himself saying.  "Maybe it's time I really retired."

For once Abby didn't try to talk him out of it.  "Don't hate me, but I've been thinking about leaving."

"I don't blame you," he said, kissing her forehead.  "I know I've been a bear to work with."

"I still love you," she said loyally.

"I’m sure Tony would love to have you work with him.  How's Tim doing?"

"He loves it.  He's in geek heaven.  His boss is a geek, and apparently Bruce Wayne is a geek, too, and Tim's been given all this money to make geek toys."

Gibbs furrowed his brow at her.

"He's happy."

"Good."

"You know he loves you, right?"

"Tim?" Gibbs said in some alarm.

"No," Abby said with a laugh.  "Tony."

"Yeah, I know."

"Do you love him back?"

"I don't want to have this conversation."

"Okay, I get that, but maybe it's not that you're tired.  Maybe it's just that you're lonely."

Just then Gibbs' phone went off.  He pulled it off his belt, looked who was calling, and rolled his eyes.  He strode to the exit.

"Be nice," Abby called out behind him.  She watched as he walked out of view.  Wow, she thought to herself, Gibbs had almost been his old self.  She called Tony quickly.

"Hey Abs!"

"Wow, what did you and Gibbs talk about last night?  He was smiling!"

"Really?  I was sort of depressed when we hung up."

"Maybe you should drop by.  Just be in the neighborhood, or something.  Maybe he'll keep smiling."

"I told him I'd come visit, and he decided it wasn't a good idea."

"And you listened to him?"

"Old habit."

"I mean it.  Come by."

"We'll see.  How are you?  Have you talked to Tim?"

"Yes!  He loves it!"

"I know," Tony said happily.  "He's in seventh heaven.  And while I won't take you away from Gibbs, you know you have a job anytime you want, right?"

"Yeah, Tony, I know.  Thanks."  She decided not to tell him she was thinking about it.  She wasn't quite ready to leave Gibbs.  "I better get back to work.  Miss ya."

"I miss you, too."

She hung up, and stared into space for a while, thinking about how strange life was, sometimes.  Then, she turned back to her machines, hoping she'd find an answer for Gibbs.

* * *

That night, Gibbs heard his front door open and then two sets of footsteps walking across the house.  He retrieved the gun he kept in the basement and held it behind his back.

"You sure he's here?" a voice said, a voice that sounded a lot like Tony.

"I'm sure," someone that sounded just like Clark said in reply.  "He's down in the basement."

Gibbs put his gun away and waited.  Soon enough Tony came into view, looking good enough to make Gibbs wish he could stop time for a while so he could simply stare his fill.  He was dressed all in black, no doubt to not attract attention while flying through the air.  "You lost, DiNozzo?"

"Hey, Mr. Gibbs," Clark said with a friendly smile.  "How are you?  And wow, you making a boat?"

"It's just Gibbs, Clark, and I'm fine.  And yes, I'm making a boat."

"This is one of many," Tony said, staring at Gibbs as if drinking his fill as well.

"How do you get them out?" Clark asked.

"A question we've all been wondering about for years."

"You just happen to be in the neighborhood?" Gibbs asked.

"If you mean the sky," Tony said with a grin, "then yes.  Clark's the best door-to-door service there is."  He was still staring.

"Um, I could go away and come back, if you want," Clark offered.

"No," Tony said.  "I don't want to explain to Lex if I somehow lose you.  But would you mind going upstairs for a minute?"

"Sure."  Clark pointed upstairs and looked a little embarrassed.  "I'll just be up there until you call for me.  You know, not listening or anything.  Unless you call, and then I'll be listening, but only if you call really loud."

Tony laughed.  "Thanks, Clark."  He'd never stopped staring at Gibbs.  "You look good."  He registered Clark racing up the stairs.

Somehow, Gibbs doubted that.  Despite sleeping well last night, it had been a while.  "You, too."

He wasn't sure who moved first but then Tony was plastered against him, and his tongue was in his mouth, and Gibbs' hands were running down Tony's back, pulling him close, until they were pressed as tight as could be together, and Gibbs still didn't think it was close enough.  Then Tony was working on Gibbs' belt buckle and sinking to his knees, and his mouth was around Gibbs' cock.

Gibbs had rarely thought about this, not being one who believed in engaging in fantasies, but whatever he had allowed himself to indulge in paled in comparison to the real thing.  Tony's mouth was like a furnace, and his hands were firm on Gibbs' hips, encouraging Gibbs to rock into his mouth as hard and as fast as he wanted.  Gibbs wanted nothing more, so he did as he was told, one hand fisted in Tony's hair, the other at his lips, feeling his cock move in and out of Tony's mouth.  It had been so long since anyone had touched Gibbs like this, and coupled with the fact it was Tony doing the touching, it didn't take long before Gibbs was shooting in Tony's mouth, groaning out his pleasure.

Then he was down on the floor and Tony was lying on him, thrusting against the joint of his hip.  "Wait, wait," Gibbs panted, trying to get into Tony's pants, wanting to feel the hard length of him in his hands, to get all the sense memories he could out of this frantic rutting on the floor of his basement.

Tony let out his own moan when Gibbs finally freed him, feeling the steel under velvet.  Remembering the long ago feel of a cock in his hand, and knowing what pleased him, Gibbs stroked Tony, finding his mouth, wanting to kiss him again. 

"Gibbs," Tony gasped.  "Jethro.  God, you feel so good.  I dreamed, and oh, do that, oh, God," and then he was coming over Gibbs' hand and Gibbs gently stroked him through his orgasm.  He kept kissing Tony, slowing it down, the pace more gentle now, the tongue thrusting turning into nibbling, and the wet kisses more licks now.  And then Tony sagged against him, and hugged him tightly, both at the same time.

"See?" Tony murmured sleepily.  "Insta-orgasm."

Gibbs snickered into Tony's hair.  "Next time come by yourself."  He brought his hand up and licked off some of Tony's come, wanting to taste him.

Tony watched him greedily, joining him, his tongue dancing with Gibbs' as they cleaned Tony's come off.  "You drive me crazy," Tony said, the kissing heating up again.

"The spirit is willing," Gibbs said, "but I won't be ready for round two until long after Clark has run out of patience."

"I don't care," Tony said.  "I just don't want to stop touching you.  Do you know how long I've wanted to touch you?"

"From day one?" Gibbs guessed.

Tony pulled back, frowning.  "Did you know?  All that time?"

"No," Gibbs said.  "But once you told me you loved me, and I thought about it, I guessed it had been there from the beginning."

Tony looked like he wasn't sure he believed Gibbs.

"I mean it.  I know I'm a bastard, but I'd like to believe I wouldn't toy with you that way.  Not for that long."

"Okay," Tony said.  "So I'm guessing it hasn't been that long for you?"

Gibbs wished they were lying someplace a little more comfortable than his basement floor, his bare ass cold against the concrete.  "Could I pull my pants up?"

Snorting out a laugh, Tony backed off and took a minute to pull his own pants back up.  Then he and Gibbs settled back on the bench, Gibbs against the wall, Tony against him, his back to Gibbs' chest. 

"Does it matter?" Gibbs asked.

"Maybe," Tony said.  "I feel like I'm the one taking all the steps here.  Not that I'm complaining.  I'm thrilled that you're letting me take any steps at all.  I'd just like a little encouragement."

Gibbs had actually been giving this a lot of thought, in between trying not to think of it at all.  "I'm not sure.  I could say that something's always been there, but it never really crossed my mind until I heard you say you loved me."

"Why did you come after me, then?" Tony asked.

"I didn't really think it through.  I just knew I couldn't let you go."

"Oblivious much?" Tony said teasingly.

"Completely," Gibbs admitted.  "And this still doesn't solve anything."

"You mean because you're here and I'm there?"

"Yup."

Tony sat up and faced Gibbs.  "How often do you actually have sex?  Seriously?"

"Not very often."

"Me, neither.  Not since Jeanne.  And not since you kissed me, that's for damn sure.  I've been holding out for the real thing."

"Is there a point to this?"

"All I'm saying is that some sex is way better than no sex, and I can get here a couple times a month.  You've probably been working every weekend, but take one off now and then, and we can spend them together."

"Lex would let you take a weekend?"

"He's my boss, not my owner.  Of course he'd let me take a weekend off.  He'd probably take it off, too, so he could spend it with Clark, make sure he stays out of trouble."

"Hey!" came a protesting yell from upstairs.

"I thought you weren't listening," Tony yelled back.

"Oh.  Right.  I'm not."

"Want to bet his face is flaming red when he sees us?" Tony said gleefully.

"You make this sound so easy."

"It is easy, Gibbs.  When you were dating Hollis, how often did you see her?"

"Between both our schedules, two or three times a month.  Sometimes more."

"We can do that, easy.  And I'm serious, Clark can bring you to Metropolis in about ten minutes.  It's a pretty impressive ride."

"You have a home yet?"

"Almost.  Lex is building another floor out.  He says it should be done in a month or so.  Part of it will be mine."

"Is there anything this paragon boss of yours doesn't do for you?"

"Yeah," Tony said, "turn me on 'til I can't see straight."

Gibbs appreciated the sentiment, especially given how old and tired he'd been feeling.  Right now he felt like a young buck.  "You really think we can do this?"

"I really think we can."

Gibbs thought about the idea of having a long-distance relationship with Tony.  Having someone to call at night and talk about his day, knowing he'd understand.  Knowing if he really needed to see Tony, that Tony could get to him faster than it would have taken him to drive across the city.  "This is crazy."

"Crazy like a fox," Tony said.  "Stop over-thinking this.  All it needs to be is what it is.  We care about each other, we're attracted to each other.  So we get together and spend time together and have sex.  Easy."

"And still sleep alone most nights."

"Be honest with me.  Would you ever have let this happen while I was working for you?"

"No," Gibbs said firmly.

"If I moved back here, and took a job somewhere else, which I'm not going to do, but hypothetically, would you let me move in?"

"No," Gibbs said again.

"So, how is this different?  At least now you know you could be having sex on a regular basis, and having someone occasionally to sleep with that you actually care about.  You do like me, right?"

"Yeah, DiNozzo, I like you just fine."

Tony beamed at him, and Gibbs pulled him in for another kiss, feeling a lightness of heart he hadn't felt in years.  "You better go put Clark out of his misery.  And next time, come alone."

"I will," Tony said.  "When do you actually have a weekend off?"

"Not for a couple of weeks."

"Your new team must love that," Tony said with an eye roll.  "What are their names?"

"I can't remember," Gibbs said honestly.

"Okay, tomorrow morning, you're going to go in there, and call them by their right names, and maybe even bring them coffee, and see if they have any questions about the trauma you've been putting them through.  You got me?"

"You want me to be my own senior agent?"

"Yup."

"I can do that."

Tony’s smile grew broader.  "I better go.  I told Lex I was only borrowing Clark for thirty minutes.  He'll be pacing by now."

They both walked upstairs, and Tony was right, Clark took one look at them and his face got as red as a tomato. 

"You were listening, weren't you?" Tony teased him.

"Shut up," Clark said, sounding mortified.

"Not that I want to add to the delinquency of a minor," Tony said in his best teasing voice, "but just in case you were trying to keep track, I was giving Gibbs a blow--"

There was a rush of wind and Clark was gone, taking Tony with him.

Gibbs burst out laughing, enjoying the sensation, feeling sated both physically and emotionally, something he hadn't felt in years.  Decades, probably.  Still laughing, Gibbs went back downstairs, shut off the lights, then headed up to the bedroom, planning on getting another good night's sleep.

* * *

"Tell me their names again," Gibbs asked from behind Abby.

Abby shrieked and turned around, a hand over her heart.  "Don't do that," she snapped.  "And whose names?"

"My rookies."

"Vince and Bryant."  She took a good long look at him.  "Oh, my God, you got laid."

"Abby," Gibbs said, sternly telling himself not to blush.  He was not a sixteen-year-old.

"You so did.  Did Tony come to visit you?  Where is he?  When does he go home?"

"He already left," Gibbs told her.  "But he'll be back."

"Here?" Abby asked hopefully.

"No," he said.  "But here as in visiting."

She leered at him.  "You mean here as in heating up the sheets."  She punched his arm.  "You dog, you.  Was it great?"

Gibbs wasn't about to start critiquing the insta-orgasm with Abby.  "Vince and Bryant?"

That was when she noticed that he was holding a coffee cardboard tray with four coffee cups in it.  "Gibbs, you got the rookies coffee.  Oh, see, Tony's so good for you."  She smiled, clearly delighted.  "He can be your senior agent by proxy."  She nudged him.  "Go on, take it up while it's still hot."

"Abby."

"I won't tell a soul, I promise.  Except Ducky.  He deserves to know.  You know he does."

"Fine.  But just Ducky."

"And we get to join you for dinner one night when Tony is here."

"Deal."  Gibbs grinned at her, shook his head when she squealed and gave him a hug, then headed for the elevator.  "Vince and Bryant," he said to himself.  "Vince and Bryant."

* * *

**NCIS Headquarters**

**February Year One**

"Gibbs, turn on the TV," Abby yelled as she ran toward him in the bullpen.

Gibbs spun his chair and put on the TV.  Abby changed it to the channel she wanted.

"What is it?" Ziva asked, then grew quiet as Abby turned the sound up.

"…Luthor is in serious condition at Metropolis University Hospital, as is one of his bodyguards.  The name of the bodyguard has not yet been released.  There has been no information released on who is responsible, nor if this has any connection to the previous attempt on his life, just a few short months ago."

Gibbs had his phone out and was dialing Tony's number.  "Pick up, DiNozzo, pick up."  The longer it rang without an answer, the more Gibbs' gut roiled.  When he looked up and saw Clark standing there, he shut the phone off. 

"Is it him?"

Clark nodded.  There was blood on his sleeve, and a stripe of it across one cheek. 

"Is he okay?"

"They don't know.  He's in surgery.  They're both in surgery."

Clark looked like he was one step away from losing it, maybe blurting stuff out loud that shouldn't be said in front of the wrong people.  Ziva was listening very attentively.  "What is he talking about?" she said.  "Is it Tony who's hurt?"

"Gibbs, you need to go," Abby said. 

Gibbs thought about it for five seconds and then decided he'd go insane sitting around in Washington.  "Tell Vance I had a family emergency.  I'll call him later."

Abby nodded.  "Tell him we're thinking of him.  Because he will be okay," she vowed.  "Do you need me to make reservations for you?"

Shaking his head, Gibbs said, "Someone will be picking me up outside."

"How do you know that?" Ziva asked.

"Because Clark's here."  Gibbs left it at that, trusting that Ziva would follow that brief comment to its most reasonable conclusion.  It’s not like she’d come up with the truth, that Clark had flown here, and would be flying Gibbs back with him.  "You're in charge of wrapping up the case."

"Of course," Ziva said.

Gibbs looked around, feeling like he'd forgotten something, but he decided the only thing he was missing was Tony.  He walked toward Clark, but then went back to his desk, unlocking the bottom drawer.  He pulled out Tony's file and retrieved the document that said Gibbs had his power of attorney for medical decisions.  He folded it up and slipped it into the inside pocket of his jacket.  Then, replacing the file, he relocked the drawer. 

He grabbed Clark's arm and headed for the exit.  "Keep it together," Gibbs said softly to Clark, when he could feel the boy's muscles bunch as if he might take off from the foyer.  Gibbs didn't know what had brought Clark here when he had to want to be near Lex.  Maybe it was because he did want to be near Lex, but couldn't be, and he desperately needed something to do.  But no matter the reason, Gibbs was grateful.  "Where did you come down?"

"Over there," Clark said, pointing toward a copse of trees behind the visitors' parking lot.

"Good," Gibbs said.  "Let's walk over that way, then."  He kept an eye out for anyone who might be watching.  "How fast can you take off?"

"Fast," Clark said.  "No one will see us, or if they do, we'll be gone so fast, they'll think it was a trick of light."

Gibbs checked one more time, and then dragged Clark into the trees.  "Go."

Clark needed no urging and, after picking Gibbs up, they were sky borne in seconds, and Gibbs was trying to catch his breath.  He looked down, astonished at the fact that someone was actually flying him.  "What happened?" 

"It's the anniversary of Lex's mom's death, and he was at the graveyard.  Me, my mom, and Tony were all there, too, to keep him company."

"Was there any security with him?"

"Me and Tony," Clark said.  "We didn't think we'd need anyone else."

"Who was it?  Were they after Lex?"

"I don't know.  I didn't even notice anything.  They looked like they were visitors at the cemetery; they even had flowers they were putting on a grave.  Tony was the one who realized something was wrong.  I didn’t figure things out until I heard a shot.  I'm so stupid.  I should have seen it first.  Heard it first."

"Clark, you're not trained to observe for the signs of something going down.  Tony's been doing this for years, and I would have expected him to see it first.  But now that something like this has happened, it might be a good idea for you to get some training."

"I need to," Clark said vehemently.  "I'm not going to be much good if I don't know what’s going on until bullets are already flying."

"What happened next?"

"They shot at Lex, and he got hit.  Then Tony was standing in front of him and took the next round.  By then Mom was screaming, and I pushed her down behind a large tombstone and moved in front of Tony and Lex."

"Did any of the bullets hit you?"

"Yeah, a lot of them," Clark said.

"Where did they hit you?"

"I don't know."

"This is important, Clark.  Did they hit your chest?  Did any hit your face or head?"

"Not my head.  Look for holes in my clothes."

Gibbs felt along Clark's chest and back, and found at least five holes.  "Good.  Chest is good.  We can say you were wearing a vest if they say something.  Okay, what happened next?"

"I used my heat ray thing to make their guns too hot to hold, and then I tied them up with a garden hose.  By then, someone had called the cops, so I had to wait for an ambulance to take them to the hospital instead of taking them there myself.  If I already had a costume I could have changed and then come back and flown them there myself."

"So, the ambulance came, and the police came, and then what?"

"I was sitting with Tony and Lex and putting pressure on their wounds.  After the ambulance staff took over, I showed the police where the bad guys were, but they were gone."

"Damn it," Gibbs said.  "How'd that happen?"

"I wasn't watching."  Clark sounded devastated.  "I--"

"No, Clark, that's not what I meant.  You did good.  You kept Clark and Lex alive, and kept Martha safe.  When this is all over, I can teach you some tricks to make sure that a suspect is tied securely, and how to check for weapons.  One of them probably had a knife and used it to cut them free."

"Now we won't know who did it, though, and they could try again."

"Yes, they could, so let's get to the hospital."

Clark dropped down lightly behind a parking garage and helped Gibbs find his feet. 

"That was impressive," he told Clark.

Clark flashed him a grin that was a shadow of his usual one.  Gibbs had gotten quite used to seeing it given how many times he'd dropped Tony off.  Now he tended to just drop Tony off and go back home, coming back for him when Tony was ready to leave.  Usually the next morning, or sometimes the end of the weekend. 

"Let's go see how they are," Gibbs said.

"They won't tell me anything."

Gibbs showed them his badge.  "They'll tell me.  Where's Hudson?"

"I don't know," Clark admitted.  "I just, when they wouldn't let me see Lex, I went a little, well, Mom said to go get you."

At least Gibbs knew who to thank for that consideration.  "I'm glad you did."  They hit the lobby and Clark pushed the elevator up button.  He was almost jittering with excess energy, and Gibbs bet that having to wait for an elevator when Clark could have run up the stairs in less than a second was grating.  He didn't envy, even if, paradoxically, he admired, Lex for having this tiger by the tail.

The elevator finally arrived, and Clark got on and pushed the number five hard enough that his finger splintered the button.

"Rein it in, Clark," Gibbs told him.

Clark looked furious with himself, and he wrapped his arms around his middle and stood in the center of the elevator.  "What if he's not okay?"

"Don't borrow trouble.  Let's see what the doctor says."  He didn't want to think about the same question as it pertained to Tony.  Gibbs was actually enjoying his job again.  Vince and Bryant were settling down, Ziva was loosening up again, and Gibbs was amazed at the difference in his life, just because Tony was back in it.  Tony had come by NCIS a few times when he stayed for the weekend, and he spent some time with Vince and Bryant, teaching them some computer shortcuts to access records and files, and probably installing computer games at the same time.  He'd kidded around with Ziva, and she had laughed for the first time in weeks.

Gibbs found it ironic that it was because he was enjoying his job again, that it was easier to consider leaving it.  Maybe it was because if he left now, he was going out at the top of his game, and not leaving because he was tired and defeated.  Tony had told him some of what was going on in Metropolis and Gotham City, and Gibbs was intrigued.  Tony's excitement was infectious, and Gibbs was more curious about what Tony's new family--as Tony called them--were up to than he'd been about anything in years.

The elevator door opened, and Clark waited for him to go first.  The waiting room was directly across from the elevator, and Martha was sitting there, along with Bruce. 

"Martha," Gibbs said.

"Oh, Jethro," she said, standing up.  "I'm so glad you could come."

"Thanks for sending Clark.  Do we know anything?"

She shook her head.

"Mr. Wayne," Gibbs said.

"Bruce is fine."

Gibbs nodded.  "Let me see what I can find out.  He patted his pocket, adding, "I've got proof that I have Tony's power of attorney, and as part of an investigation, I can ask about Lex.  Are you Lex's?" he asked Clark.

"Yes," Clark said.  "Wait," he added as if realizing Gibbs' question was asking something specific.  "Lex's what?"

"His power of attorney?  Never mind, you're too young.  Who has his power of attorney?  Do you know?" he asked Bruce.

Bruce shook his head.  "Up until now, Lionel would always come in and take charge regardless."

"He'll need to designate someone now," Gibbs said.  To Clark, he added, "Don't touch anything."

Clark nodded, wrapping his arms around himself again.

Determined to find out what he could, Gibbs headed to the nurses' station.

* * *

"Why did he say that?" his mom asked.

"I broke the button in the elevator.  I pushed it too hard."

"Sit by me," his mom said, patting the chair.  She thought Jethro was being a little harsh, but it was also true that Clark tended to forget his strength when he was upset.  A little reminder couldn't hurt.

He sat, and she wrapped her arm around him, pulling him close.  He rested his head on her shoulder, saying, "They were bleeding so much."

The three of them sat there until Julia showed up, followed by Mark Hudson.

"Gibbs is finding out how they are," Bruce told him.

Mark nodded and sat down on Martha's other side.  Julia sat next to Bruce.  Mark had heard the story about Gibbs showing up in the nick of time to save Tony, Lex and Clark, and Martha had heard the story about Gibbs showing up the night of the auction and Mark essentially booting him out the door.  Saving everyone's life had gone a long way toward softening Mark's attitude about the man.

"Anything at the site of the shooting?" Bruce asked.

"Nothing," Mark said in disgust.  "I have no idea who they are.  There isn't any surveillance of the cemetery grounds during the day, so there's no film."

Gibbs walked back in.  "They're going to be okay," he said without needing to be prompted.

Clark kept his head buried in Martha's shoulder, and she just pulled him closer.

"Lex took a hit to one of his lungs but Clark did such a good job holding pressure to his wound he didn't develop a tension pneumothorax, so he'll be fine once they get the chest tube out.  Tony took a hit to the gut, so he'll be miserable a little longer, and he won't be eating solid food for a while, but he'll be okay, too."

Martha rubbed a hand over her eyes.  "Thank God.  Thank you, Jethro."

"Mark," Gibbs said.  "Debrief Clark.  I've got a feeling they may try again.  I'm going to talk to security and keep an eye out."

Martha was a little amused at how easily Mark just accepted Gibbs' orders.  Mark moved to Clark's side, and Clark came out of hiding to tell Mark what happened, while Gibbs and Bruce moved into the hallway.  Martha half suspected that Bruce was being given orders to stay with her and Clark, and just as she thought that, Bruce came back in and positioned himself so he could see the hallway.

Martha used to feel protected by Jonathan, but he had nothing on this new family of hers.  She wondered if he had heard the news yet.  If he'd call.  Things weren't much better and it was past time for her to make a decision.

She supposed the very fact that she wasn't making a decision was a decision of sorts.  The house was long done, and she'd only seen it a few times.  Clark had flown her out to it, and Jonathan had shown her all the rooms with such pride, as if he'd built it himself.  To be fair, he had done a lot of extra work.  There were beautiful tiles in the kitchen and bathrooms, both on the floors and the walls, and she knew he'd done that work, wanting to put his own stamp on their home.

She'd slept with him, and it was great; Jonathan had always been a good lover.  But the afterglow they'd always enjoyed wasn't there anymore.  She'd wanted to get up and go sleep in another room and it had made her cry.  He'd held her as she'd sobbed in his arms, unable to explain to him how it all felt sour to her now.  Neither of them had gotten much sleep, and the next morning at breakfast had been painfully awkward.

To Jonathan's credit, he was being very patient with her, saying very little the few times they were together, as if he knew how easy it would be for her to just decide to never come home.  The problem was that while he was keeping his mouth shut, his feelings about Lex, and Martha and Clark's friendship with him, hadn't changed at all.

Part of the problem was that she loved being back in the city.  She loved her new job, loved working with Lex, and loved having shopping and wonderful restaurants only steps away at any time of day or night.  And, she was embarrassed to admit, she loved the luxury Lex provided.  She'd never been drawn to money; if she had she wouldn't have married Jonathan.  But when it was given to her with such love, and with no strings attached, it was hard not to wallow in it.

Bruce was just as bad as Lex.  It was as if she'd become everyone's surrogate mother, just as Alfred was everyone's favorite uncle.  Even Tony spoiled her.

Suddenly Clark stopped talking and stiffened beside her.  "What--"

He put up a hand to shush her.  "Gibbs is calling me.  He's telling me to tell Mark that two men are climbing up the east stairwell."

Mark was up in a flash, Clark behind him.  He told Clark to stay with Martha, but Clark just rolled his eyes.  "I can stop bullets, you can't," he hissed.

The elevator dinged, and Gibbs walked out.  "You hear me?"

Mark nodded.  "You go stay by their rooms; I'll take the stairwell."

"I'm going, too," Clark said.

"I've got a better idea," Gibbs said.  "We'll both take the stairwell.  I don't want Clark anywhere near possible suspects until he gets some training on how to deal with them.  Ask him where the weapons they had earlier are."

Clark pulled out a metal ball about the size of a super ball and showed it to Mark with a chagrined look.

"My point exactly," Gibbs said.  "That won't exactly help the police prove they were the ones who fired the bullets that shot Lex and Tony.  Stay with your mom, and if they get past us, then you can stop them, okay?  We need the suspects intact, along with their weapons.  Unless they confess, all we could arrest them for right now is intent."

Clark flushed, and Martha put a hand on his shoulder.  "Jethro."

"Martha, this is important.  I don't mean to make him feel bad, but he has to understand that there's a right and a wrong way to do things."

"He's right," Mark said.  "And I should have talked to Clark about these things already."

"We'll do it later.  And what I said still stands.  You saved Lex's life, Clark.  You did.  And Tony's.  Now it's our turn.  Okay?"

Clark nodded.

"Good boy," Gibbs said, and he and Mark walked to the stairwell, opening it up and slipping inside.

"I can't believe I screwed it up so much," Clark said.

"You heard him," Julia said.  "You did what was important."

"But suppose they won't confess, and they don't end up going to jail?  They could just try again."

"If what Tony says is true," Bruce said.  "Gibbs will get a confession out of them.  Tony says he's never seen anyone as good at interrogation."

And then, almost anticlimactically, even before Bruce could get Martha and Clark back in the waiting room, Mark and Gibbs were pushing two men out of the stairwell, both handcuffed.  Gibbs shoved them down to sit on the floor then pulled Mark back into the waiting room.  "This is what's going to happen.  Mark, you call the police.  They know you, and won't think it odd that you were here and caught them.  Bruce, they know you, too, so you stay.  Your presence here will only support whatever Mark says."

He asked Mark, "Does Lex have any bulletproof vests at the house?"

"Yes, in my storage room."  Mark handed a key to Gibbs.  "Back left."

"Clark can take me back there, and we'll make a vest match his shirt, so we can present it as evidence.  That way Clark can pick them out of a line up, and we'll get them arrested for attempted murder.  The story about the guns is that the men took them with them, choosing to retreat when they heard people coming.  We claim ignorance about whatever happened to the garden hose.  In the meantime, Bruce, fix it with administration so Clark can be with Lex.  Everyone clear?"

Everyone nodded.  "Good," Gibbs said.  "Clark, let's go."

Clark followed Gibbs out the door, and Martha just stared at Mark and Bruce.  "My," she said.  "He's good at that, isn't he?"

"Yes," Mark said.  "Lex needs to hire him."  Then he had his phone out and was making his calls as assigned.

* * *

Clark showed Gibbs the room Mark had been speaking of, and Gibbs opened the door and stepped inside.  The room was filled with weapons, including a few things Gibbs was reasonably certain weren't legal for personal use.  He'd worry about that later.  "Do you recognize the guns they used?"

Clark pointed to one.  "That one."

"Good, go pick a vest that fits."

Clark moved to the back left of the room and tried one on.  It wouldn't close around his chest.  He put it down and found another one that did fit. 

"Bring both of them."

Clark brought them both.   
  
Gibbs took the one that didn't fit.  "How far away were you?"

Clark moved a few feet away.  "This far."

Gibbs had Clark hold the vest to the side and shot at it several times.  "This is what the holes need to look like.  Practice on this one before you do it on yours.  Take your shirt off and make sure the holes match up."  He handed Clark one of the spent shells.  "Use this."

Clark sat at one of the counters and practiced jamming the shell into it, until it looked like the ones Gibbs had made.  Then, using the t-shirt as his guide, he poked five holes in the vest that did fit.  "Okay," Clark said.  "I think I got it."  He turned around.  "Any more holes?"

Gibbs had him turn, but didn't see any more.  "I think we're good.  Take it off.  We'll drive over and leave it in the car, so we'll have it when they want it."

Clark nodded then said, "I don't want to screw up again.  Will you teach me what I need to know?"

"Yes," Gibbs said, “at least while I’m still here.”  Speaking of that, he needed to call Vance.  Coincidentally, his phone rang, and he saw it was the director calling him.  "Gibbs."

"What family?"

"Excuse me?"

"Ms. Scuitto said you had a family emergency, and I'm asking you what family?  Something happen to your dad?"

"No, my dad's fine," Gibbs said, "It's DiNozzo."

"He the bodyguard that got hit?"

"Yup.”

“He hurt bad?”

“He’ll live, but I need to stay for a while."

"He's not family, Gibbs."

"I've got weeks of vacation time coming to me, Leon.  You can let me use it, or I can just give you my notice.  Your choice."

"He means that much to you?"

Gibbs grit his teeth, not wanting to have this conversation.  "Leon.  Yes or no."

"What the hell am I supposed to do with your team?  I can't let Officer David lead them."

"Keep them on cold cases, or loan them out to other teams.  I don't know, Leon, you're the boss, you figure it out."

"You're an asshole, Gibbs."

"Tell me something I don't know.  Yes, or no?"

"Fine.  Use your damn time.  Send me a request via e-mail, and let me know when it might be convenient for you to come back."

"Will do," Gibbs said, ignoring Vance's sarcasm, and hung up.  He dialed Abby.

"Gibbs?  How's Tony?"

"He'll be driving us crazy with all his whining, but he'll be okay.  By the way, I'll be staying a while."

"What does that mean?" she asked, and Gibbs could almost hear her eyes narrow.

"Just until Tony's back on his feet."

"Is he really okay?"

"He really is.  Or will be.  You can tell everyone he's okay."

"Let me know when I can come see him."

"I will."  He shut off the phone, turned to Clark, and said, "You ready?"

Clark nodded, looking despondent.

Gibbs decided he'd, possibly, been a little too blunt.  It was easy to forget that Clark wasn't much more than a kid.  "Clark.  You didn't know.  This is all new to you, and I understand that, and I don't fault you for it.  We'll get it done this way, instead.  It all worked out.  All of you are fine, and you learned a lesson the hard way.  Those lessons are the ones that stay with us, right?"

Clark nodded again, looking a little less unhappy.

"Let's get back to the hospital the regular way, in a car.  By now, Bruce probably has the hospital CEO eating out of his hands, so we can make sure you're sitting with Lex when he wakes up."

"We can take one of Lex’s cars, or I could call for a car.  Do you want a driver?"

It would probably make sense to have a driver there at the hospital to chauffeur people back and forth.  "Good idea."

Looking satisfied to be asked to do something he couldn't screw up, Clark picked up the phone.

* * *

Lex awoke slowly, cataloging the aches and pains, deciding there was little he couldn’t live with.  This was the second time he was awake; the last time, right after his surgery, had consisted of a brief conversation with the doctor about how the surgery had gone, and how lucky he’d been.  Lex had been disappointed not to see Clark hovering in the doorway, although he’d rapidly fallen asleep again.

The chest tube hurt, and Lex thought pain medication might be next on the agenda.  He wiggled his fingers and toes, glad to see they all obeyed his commands, and when he looked up, he was even gladder to see that Clark was now hovering in the doorway.  “Hey,” Lex said gently. 

Clark looked on edge.  He came in and gingerly sat on the end of the bed. 

Lex studied Clark, not liking how fragile he looked.  “Come here,” he said, patting the bed by his hip.  “Come lie next to me.”

Clark got up and walked around to the side of Lex opposite of where all his lines and tubes were, and he lay down on his right side, sneaking an arm around Lex.

His fingers jostled the chest tube and Lex let out an inadvertent gasp of pain.   
  
Clark was off the bed in an instant, looking miserable.  “God, Lex, I’m sorry.  I keep messing everything up.”

“Whoa,” Lex said.  “There’s nothing to be sorry for.”  He patted the bed again.  “Sit.  I mean it.  And if it will make you feel better you can call the nurse for me for some pain meds.  I was going to do it anyway, so don’t think for an instant it’s because of what you just did.”  Clark was still standing, his face all scrunched up, and Lex barked out, “Sit.”

Clark sat.

“Now lie down.”

Clark lay down, much more carefully this time, almost moving in slow motion.  Lex maneuvered Clark’s head to his left shoulder, taking Clark’s hand and resting it on his stomach.  “Okay?”

Clark nodded, let out a long, long sigh, and snuggled in.  Lex could feel Clark’s body sag in relief.

“Now, who’s been telling you that you messed up?” Lex asked softly.

“You got shot,” Clark said.  “Tony got shot.  While I just stood there.  I’m the one bullets can’t hurt, and you both got shot.  Tony was the one who jumped in front of you while I just stood there.”

“It’s not your job to protect me,” Lex said, his fingers running up and down Clark’s forearm.  He clearly needed to buy Tony that leather couch he liked so much. 

“It should be,” Clark said tersely.  “I love you, and I should be the one stopping bullets, not Tony.”

“So, in other words, what you expected Tony to do was essentially push you in front of him, so he and I could hide behind you?”

Clark frowned.  “Maybe?”

“You really see Tony doing that?"

Clark shook his head.

"It's never going to happen, Clark, even though we do know that you're the one who can't get hurt.  Tony’s trained to protect everyone around him that he considers a civilian.  Don't feel badly, though, because you did save my life.  My doctor told me that the only reason I’m alive is because someone knew what they were doing when they held pressure on my side.  Now granted, they didn't know they were dealing with someone with super strength, but it was still you who did it." 

“Good,” Clark said fiercely, "and I did finally move and stop some of the bullets from hitting Tony.”

“So as far as I can see, you saved both our lives.”

That got a smile out of Clark, and they rested together for a while.  Lex decided that Clark was good medicine for him as his chest tube didn’t seem to hurt as much.  Lex let their conversation rewind a little then frowned.  “Did anyone see you take some bullets?”

There was a pause.

“Clark.  This is important.  Once we get Superman up and running, you can do all of this stuff in public, but until then you have to be careful.”

Clark sat up, with a hangdog expression.  “Yes, they saw me, so I totally messed that up, and then Gibbs said because I destroyed the evidence we might not even be able to convict them.”

“Gibbs said that?” Lex said, deciding he and Gibbs would be having a talk.

“Yes, and he was right.  I turned their guns into, well, into this.”  Clark pulled a ball of metal out of his pocket and handed it to Lex.

Lex couldn’t help but grin as he took the ball and felt its mass.  He was glad to see Clark grin back.  “I love the stuff you can do,” Lex told him.  “I love you.”  He crooked his finger, encouraging Clark to lean down, and Lex gave him a quick kiss.  “We’ve got more to talk about, but thank you for saving my life.”

“Thanks for not dying,” Clark said in return, and stole a quick kiss of his own.

“What else did Gibbs say?”

“That I need to be more aware of what’s going on and how to disarm and tie up the bad guys and check them for weapons.  I tied them up with a garden hose, and I thought it was really tight, but one of them must have had a knife because they cut themselves loose.  They came here and tried to kill you again, but Gibbs stopped them.”  Clark grinned.  “You should have seen him, he was totally bossing Mark around, and Mark just did what he was told.” 

Clark looked really impressed and with good reason.  Mark didn’t take orders from anybody, sometimes not even from Lex. 

“Mark told Martha you need to hire Gibbs.” 

Lex wasn't going to do anything of the sort without talking to Tony first. 

“So where are the men who tried to shoot me now?”

“Still in jail.  Gibbs took me back to the house and had me match up the bullet holes in my shirt with a vest, and I punched holes in the vest to make it look like I was wearing it.  Gibbs said that we would all say that we had no idea what happened to the guns, but we could use the vest as evidence, and it would also explain what the men saw when they shot me but didn’t kill me.”

Lex decided Gibbs might be forgiven.  “So it sounds as if everything worked out,” Lex said.

“I know, but I still screwed everything up.  They wouldn't have been able to come back here to try to finish the job if I knew how to do things right the first time.  Gibbs said he’d teach me.”

“That’s a good idea, but I think we’ll let Tony take the lead on that,” Lex said.

Clark looked relieved about that idea.

“We’ll all be learning a lot over the next year or so,” Lex said.  “There’s nothing wrong with not knowing something as long as once you know it, and realize how important it is, you change your behavior.  I don’t suspect that you’ll make another one of these without thinking first, right?”  He held up the hunk of metal.

Clark shook his head no.

“May I keep this?” Lex said.  “I’d like to use it as a paperweight.”

Clark smiled.  “Sure.”

“Then lie back down with me for a while.  I want to feel you near me.”

Looking immeasurably lighter, Clark snuggled back down with Lex.  Lex closed his eyes, and found himself easily drifting off to sleep.

* * *

Gibbs watched Tony sleep the anesthetic off.  He could hear the murmuring of Lex and Clark next door and wished Tony was awake.

As if being granted his wish, Tony shifted on the bed, coughing a little.

“Tony?”

Some indecipherable sound came out of Tony, half groan, half angry cat.

Gibbs carefully sat on the edge of the bed and laid his hand on Tony’s chest, glad to feel his heartbeat, confirmation of the steady beat coming from the overhead monitor.  “You finally waking up?”

“Gibbs?” came next, Tony’s voice all scratchy.

“You want an ice chip?”  That was all Tony could have for a couple of days, maybe longer.

“Beer?”

Snorting, Gibbs got the cup and spoon and eased out a chip.  “Open up,” he said, and put the chip in Tony’s mouth.

Tony sucked on it and opened his mouth, and Gibbs obediently put another one in.  “Everyone okay?” Tony asked.  “Lex okay?”

“Lex is fine, thanks to you.  The men who tried to kill Lex are in custody, and with a little luck, they'll stay that way.  Oh, and I told Vance I was taking some vacation time so I could stay here with you for a while.”

That last one got Tony’s eyes opened wide.  “What?  What was that last part?”

“I want to stay here until you're better,” Gibbs told him.  “With you.  That okay with you?”

Tony closed his eyes.  Gibbs wasn’t sure what that meant; he'd been hoping for a yes, or at least a smile.

“Tony?”

Tony opened his eyes and they were wet.  Tony brought a hand up slowly to wipe at his eyes.  “Sorry.  I hurt, and I’m on drugs, and I love you.”

Gibbs took his hand and held it tightly.  “I know.  I love you, too.”  And he did, more than he’d ever expected to love someone again.  “You need me to get the nurse to get you some pain medicine?”

Tony nodded.

Gibbs found the call bell and hit the button.  When the nurse answered, he told them Tony’s request.

The nurse came in, did a double take at Gibbs holding Tony’s hand, then shook her head with a sigh.  “Come on.  Four of the best looking men I’ve ever seen, and you’re all gay?  You’re driving me crazy.”

Tony tried to smile, but it came out crooked, and Gibbs just shrugged.  He’d never been labeled as gay before, sure as hell hadn’t ever expected to, but he’d better get used to it now.

She gave Tony some pain medication through his IV, and Gibbs watched as Tony’s face went dopey.

“You stay?” Tony got out.

“I’ll be right here,” Gibbs promised him. 

* * *

"Mark Hudson seems to feel you'd be a good addition to our security team," Lex said to Gibbs.

"I'm just staying with Tony until he gets better.  I have a job to go home to when he's back on his feet."

Lex nodded.  "If you did decide at some point to stay, I'd clear it with Tony before I hired you.  I just want you know that."

"Fair enough."  Gibbs got that Lex's first loyalty was to Tony, not that he thought Tony would say no.

"And Tony would not report to you."

"Okay." 

"And you and I would need to have a conversation about Clark."

"Is this about me talking to Clark about destroying evidence?  I was right.  We were lucky we could manufacture evidence to get a conviction."

"I'm not saying you're not.  I'm just saying that the next time you think you're right about something that pertains to Clark you talk to Tony about it first.  Tony is a professional.  I have complete faith that if he finds it has merit, he'll make it happen.”

"I won't apologize for doing what's right."

"Right.  I understand that you think people shouldn't apologize, that it's a sign of weakness.  I don't agree.  I think it's a common courtesy, and a sign of strength.  We'll have to agree to disagree on that.  But rest assured, you screw something up that affects me or mine, and I'll expect an apology, or something as close to as makes no difference."

The kid had a backbone, Gibbs had to give him that.  And even Gibbs had realized he’d possibly come on a little too strong for Clark, who no doubt had apologized profusely to Lex for screwing up.  Tony probably would have done a better job talking to him. 

"Are you going to have a problem with me staying around for a while?” 

"You treat the people I care about with respect, and we won’t have a problem at all."

"Nobody can do this kind of job if we have to worry about hurting people's feelings."  Gibbs was beginning to feel that the universe was having a laugh at his expense.  He'd been yelled at more this year about his attitude than in the last five years combined.

Lex levered himself up in bed, wincing a little.  Gibbs might feel bad that he was having this conversation while Lex was still in the hospital, except Lex was the one who’d asked to speak with him.  "When Clark was no doubt frightened, watching two people he loved get shot, when he was surely feeling as if he should have found a way to save us from being hurt, when he was emotionally stricken and vulnerable, that was not the time to rip him a new one."

Gibbs glared at Lex, his best patented glare that would make anyone at NCIS stand up and pay attention.

Surprisingly, a small smile graced Lex's face.  "Don't try to intimidate me.  I was raised by a man who lived to intimidate me every day of my life and he'd have had you for breakfast.  And that's not because you're not tough enough, I've read your record.  It's because, at heart, you're a good man.  My father was not.  He had a black heart and truly enjoyed the misery of others.  He might have let you think you'd won the battle, and even smiled at you and offered you his hand, but the instant your back was turned he'd have cut your hamstrings and laughed as you fell to your knees.  If you need to yell at me because I've done something stupid, and put myself or someone I care about at risk, that's fine.  If I need to be glared at because you can tell I'm about to do something foolish, that's fine, too.  But if you ever try to intimidate me just because you think you can, we will have a problem.  Have I made myself clear?"

Against his volition, Gibbs found himself impressed by the young man.  He didn't know much about Lionel Luthor, but Gibbs wished he had a few minutes with him to use as a punching bag for whatever it was he'd done to his son.  For a startling moment, he realized that Kelly would be Lex's age now, if she'd lived.  He liked to think that she'd have had as much backbone as the kid in front of him.  "You've got balls of steel, Lex, and I think we'll get along just fine." 

"Good," Lex said, another small smile on his lips.  "Now, I'm sure Clark has been listening to this entire conversation, and is currently mortified that you think he ratted you out."

"He didn't," Gibbs said.  "He confided in someone he loves.  Nothing wrong with that.  Does he always eavesdrop?"

"When it concerns me, and unless I've asked him not to, then yes.  Sometimes he can't help himself.  His super hearing still isn't completely under his control yet.  I can promise you that he's discreet."

He'd have to be, Gibbs thought, to have lived being what he was for so long, without telling a soul.  "I'll go check in on Tony."

"Send Clark in, would you?"

"Sure.  When are they letting you out of here?"  It would still be at least another week for Tony, much to Tony's dismay.

"Tomorrow.  We'll try to stay alive in yours and Tony’s absence," Lex added with a grin.

"Try being the operative word," Gibbs said dryly.  "I've known you less than a year, and someone's tried to kill you four times."  Even though, this time, based on Mark Hudson’s information gathering, it had been enemies of Lionel Luthor, trying to take a last revenge on the dead man.

A melancholy look passed Lex's face.  "I know," was all he said.

"Lex," Gibbs started, surprised by the need to console the young man.  "There are people in this world--I'm one of them--and I'm guessing you are too, who bring out strong emotions in people.  People either love you or they hate you.  There's seldom any middle ground.  I take pride in the caliber of the people who have chosen to love me, and I'm rarely bothered with the people who don't.  It gets easier to let those people go, the older you get."

"I'm glad to hear it," Lex said honestly, though sounding a little chagrined.  "I still find myself bothered a good deal of the time, despite all the people who have recently chosen to make it clear to me how much they care."

Lex looked disconcerted by the fact that he was suddenly finding himself surrounded by friends, and Gibbs suspected that Lionel Luthor did his best to take Lex's friends and turn them into enemies.  Based on what he'd heard, Gibbs wouldn’t even put it past the old man to sleep with his son's girlfriends, trying to take everything Lex found comforting and make it into something dirty.  Gibbs had met men like that, and he’d learned to steer clear, but Lex wouldn’t have had that choice.  That he had somehow kept his soul intact ratcheted Gibbs respect for Lex up another notch.    

"You'll do just fine, Lex," Gibbs assured him.  "If you've read my records, you probably know that I lost a daughter."

"I do, and I can't imagine a greater loss."

"She'd be your age right now," Gibbs said.  "And I'd have been glad for her to know you."

Lex went still for a moment, his eyes bright.  "Thank you, Gibbs.  I wish I'd had the opportunity.  I suspect she would have been a handful."

Gibbs laughed a little.  "Yes, I suspect she would be at that."

Clark peeked his head around the corner.  "Tony's asking for you," he said to Gibbs, easing into the room until he was sitting on the bed near Lex's knees.

"I'm on my way," Gibbs said, smiling at them, shaking his head at this new life of his, thinking it wouldn't be easy to leave when Tony was well.

* * *

Tony had progressed to clear liquids, and spent most of his time fantasizing about food.  Gibbs wasn’t sure if Tony was given the choice, right now, to having Gibbs as his life partner, or a hamburger and French fries, that Gibbs would win out. 

Deciding to discuss his conversation with Lex, Gibbs said, “We need to talk about Clark,” Gibbs said.

“Okay,” Tony said, putting down his Jello.  “What about him?”

“He destroyed evidence, and he didn’t secure the suspects.”

“I know,” Tony said.  “Clark told me.”

Clark was the most honest person Gibbs had ever met.  He really was a good kid, and the longer Gibbs knew him, the more he got Lex’s instinctive protection of the boy.  “He should to be taught how not to do that.”

Tony cocked his head to the side, studying Gibbs.  “Lex talk to you?  Rip you a new one?”

Chagrined, Gibbs nodded.

Tony laughed.  “He doesn’t like anyone messing with Clark.”

“I get that.”

“I’m guessing he said I needed to be the one to talk to Clark about stuff like that?”

Gibbs frowned, actually impressed with how easily Tony had picked up on what was going on. 

“Don’t worry,” Tony said.  “You’re absolutely right.  It never occurred to me, and that was shortsighted.  I’ll start talking to him about working a scene.”

“Good.”

“And Gibbs?”

“What?”

“I’ll take any advice you have to give me, okay?  I appreciate Lex protecting Clark, but I don’t need protection from you.  I promise.  Not anymore.”

“Did you ever?”

“I thought I did.  Not from you, maybe, but from where my head had gotten to.  I don’t know how that job went from my favorite to the most toxic, but it did, and you were all mixed up in that.  I had to get out, and I had to get some distance from you.” 

Gibbs could feel another frown on his face, remembering with distaste Tony barring the door to keep him out. 

Tony ran his thumb across Gibbs’ jaw.  “Look where we ended up,” Tony said gently.  “It was the right thing to do.  For everyone.  There isn’t any place I’d rather be, or anyone else I’d rather be protecting, or anyone else I’d rather be in love with, so it was the right thing to do.”

“It sucked,” Gibbs said.

Tony laughed, then put a hand over his stomach, grimacing.  “Ow.”

“You need something?”

“No.  I’m tired of feeling all doped up.”

Tony had been lucky, again.  The shot had just nicked his intestines, so they’d been able to stitch him up rather than having to do a bowel resection.  Didn’t mean it didn’t hurt, though.  “No point in being in pain,” Gibbs said.

“I know.  Maybe later.  I want to talk to you first.  And seeing as I’m sure you’ve given this a lot of thought, tell me what you think I should teach Clark.”

“When you’re feeling better,” Gibbs said.  There’d be plenty of time to discuss things before he had to leave. 

Tony grabbed a fistful of Gibbs’ shirt, feebly yanking him down.  “I love you,” he said before he kissed Gibbs with a lot of tongue.

Gibbs was happy to participate, one hand behind Tony’s head to help support him, one hand cupping Tony’s face.

“Ow,” Tony said, a hand now cupping his groin.  “Catheters and getting hard are two things that should never co-exist.”

This time Gibbs laughed.  He’d been laughing a lot more lately.  Maybe NCIS hadn’t only become toxic for Tony.  “You won’t have it for much longer.”

“Good,” Tony said sincerely.  “When can I go home?”

“Two more days,” Gibbs said.  He was looking forward to having Tony to himself. 

His thoughts must have been clear in his face, because Tony’s eyes were greedy when they looked at Gibbs.  “Can’t wait.  I miss you naked.”

Gibbs missed Tony naked, too.  “There might not be sex for a while.”

Making an unhappy scoffing noise, Tony deflated on the bed.  “Spoilsport.”

“I’m not doing anything that could harm you,” Gibbs defended himself.

“I know,” Tony said, “but just sleeping next to you on a real bed will be wonderful.”

Gibbs completely agreed.

* * *

“You’ll love Abby,” Tony told Clark.

“What do you mean?” Clark asked with a hint of suspicion.

Tony laughed, barely wincing at this point.  It just pulled a little, and he was actually being allowed to eat a soft diet.  The first thing he’d had Gibbs get him was ice cream.  It made him feel like a pregnant woman.

He still couldn’t do any exercise, yet, and the biggest side effect he was dealing with now was acute boredom.  “Not that way.  I just think she’ll be a good friend.”  Tony knew Clark was still smarting from Chloe’s lack of attention.  Clark had tried to speak to her several more times and gone to see her in Smallville.  But when you began to add it all up: Clark ignoring her after the prom, Clark supposedly running away without talking to Chloe about it, Clark moving to Metropolis and starting school there without talking to Chloe about it, well, it all added up to Chloe being pissed at Clark with no end in sight.

Tony hoped to get Abby working here one day.  In fact, after she came out, she’d probably be pushing Gibbs to quit so they could both stay, doing them all a favor.  In the meantime, Tony missed her.  With Lex’s blessing, after Gibbs and Tony vouched for her, Tony had been granted permission to bring Abby into the fold. 

He just had a feeling that she and Clark would end up the best of friends.  She’d think he was too wonderful for words, and he’d be comfortable with her and able to have sleepover conversations with her and talk about everything that was bugging him.  Clark might, in many ways, be mature way past his years, but he was still a teenager.  Abby was half grown up and half Peter Pan and Tony hoped they would just click.

He couldn’t wait for them to meet, which if he had his way would be in just a few minutes.  “Will you do me a favor and go get her?”

“Sure,” Clark said, willing enough.

“Let me call her first,” Tony said, picking up his phone.  He dialed her number and when she answered, said, “Hey Abby.”

“Tony!” she said excitedly in the phone.  “How are you and Tim and Gibbs doing? This place is so dull without all of you.”

“We’re good.  I’m bored, and Gibbs is hovering.  It’s a slice of heaven.”  It was, really, but Tony liked to tease Abby too much to confess.  “And Tim is having the time of his life.” 

“I know!  I’m so envious.  He’s keeps telling me he wishes he could tell me stuff, and it’s making me crazy.” 

“I could let you in on something right now if you want,” Tony said.  “Wanna come visit?  Gibbs is doing security stuff and I'm lonely."  Gibbs couldn’t help sticking his nose in, and as long as he was here, Mark and Lex were both happy to take advantage of his expertise.  As a result, Gibbs spent a good deal of time working on security issues.  Tony would mind except that he hoped it would convince Gibbs to stay.

"Aww, poor baby.  I'd love to, but any flight I could take today or tomorrow would be way too expensive for me."

"Just come for tonight."

"Want me to just get in my transporter booth?"

“If I can get you here and then back home before midnight, will you come?"

"Do you have a transporter?" she asked with appropriate awe.

"No, this is even cooler than that.  Will you come?  I need some Abby energy."

"I'm all yours if you can get me there."

"Hold on.”  He put his hand over the phone.  “Can you find her if we keep talking?”

“If you tell me a landmark near to where she lives,” Clark said.

“She lives near an old drive-in.” Tony pulled out a few pieces of paper.  “I printed out some Google earth maps so you could see where you’re going.”  There was a big x where Abby lived, and an arrow pointing to her balcony on a close up.

Clark looked at them and grinned.  “Cool.  I’m on my way.”  He pushed the French doors open and took off from the balcony.

Snickering, Tony said, “By the way, his name’s Clark.”

"Who's Clark?" 

“The guy who’s about to show up at your place to bring you here.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Part of the secret,” Tony said, grinning madly, waiting for Clark to arrive on Abby’s balcony.  He glanced at his watch.  Clark was so fast when he was flying alone that he’d be there any second.

“Tony.”

“Yeah?”

“There’s a guy knocking on my balcony door.  My second floor balcony door.”

“Is he tall, dark, and handsome?”

“Yes.”

“Does he answer to the name Clark?”

Tony could hear Abby opening the door.  “Are you Clark?”

Presumably Clark nodded, no doubt taking in Abby’s goth attire and all her tattoos, not to mention the coffin in her living room. 

“Aren’t you the guy who came to get Gibbs?” Abby asked next.

“Yeah,” Clark said.  “You’re Abby, right?”

“That would be me, handsome,” Abby said.

Tony could almost hear Clark blush through the phone.  “Abby, don’t embarrass him too much.”

“I still don’t understand,” Abby whined.

“Just go out on the balcony with him, and I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

“Tony.”

“Trust me, Abs.  This is going to be one of the coolest things you’ve ever done.”

“I’m staying on the phone,” Abby told Tony.

“Good.”  That way Tony could hear her yell when Clark started flying.

“You ready?” Clark said.

“I guess,” Abby said, and then let out a little shriek.  Tony guessed that Clark had just scooped her up.

“Hold on to the phone really tight,” Tony suggested, and then laughed out loud when she yelled out in surprise and delight.  The only thing better than hearing her shrieking would be to actually see her face, and he’d be seeing that in a minute. 

Tony quietly snickered at Abby’s non-stop exclamations of total glee, and Clark laughing at some of her more outrageous comments.  He had just finished his ice cream when there was a thump out on the patio, and Clark walked in and put Abby down.

Abby stared at Tony, then up at Clark, and then gave Clark an exuberant hug, making him redden in response, but he was looking very pleased with himself.  It was hard not to respond to Abby in a positive way.

“That was the most amazing thing I ever experienced,” Abby said in wonder, hugging herself in exultation.  “Can we do it again sometime?”

“When I take you home,” Clark said.

“Right,” she said in happiness.  “How cool are you?”

Clark looked away, and Lex chose that moment to knock and then enter the apartment.  Tony had given him a key, and said to come in anytime since it took him way too long to get to the door when Lex knocked.  If Tony didn’t want anyone to come in, he engaged the security lock, which was just about any time Gibbs was there.  “Tony, how are you?” he said, coming up to stand next to Clark.  “And you must be Abby?”

“And you must be Lex Luthor, and you are even better looking in person.”  Abby fanned herself.  “The three of you in one room are making me feel faint.”

Clark sort of hid behind Lex, and Lex grinned, both at Abby and at Clark.  “Welcome to the madhouse,” Lex told her.  “Gibbs, Tony, and Tim have all raved about your skills.  I’m hoping one day to have you join us on a permanent basis.”

“Me, too,” Abby said.  “And he’s amazing.”  She leaned forward as if telling a secret.  “He can fly.”

Lex grinned broadly.  “He can do a lot more than that.  And, in anticipation of your next question, yes, he’s a person, just like you and me.”

Clark snuck his hands around Lex’s middle, and pulled him back snugly.  Tony had seen Clark do this anytime someone new showed up, as if he needed to make his claim on Lex very clear.  Clark was still insecure enough to be totally clueless as to the unbreakable bond between the two men, as if Lex might be lured away to the right man or woman.  Clark was just getting used to Bruce.  Tony hoped he didn’t set Abby on fire.

In fact, “Abby, don’t make any moves on Lex.  Clark gets jealous, and he might accidentally set you on fire.”

“Tony,” Clark protested.

“I like Abby,” Tony told Clark.  “I’d rather she not go up in flames.”

“I haven’t done that in weeks,” Clark said.

“We haven’t introduced anyone new since then, either,” Tony said. 

Abby had her hands up.  “I promise not to make a move on anyone, especially Lex,” she said.  “And can you really set things on fire?”

Clark stared at the logs in the fireplace and they burst into flame.

“That is so cool,” Abby said, shivering in delight.  “You are so cool.”

“I’m going to steal Clark from you for a while,” Lex said.  “Just let me know when he needs to take Abby home.  Or if you want to spend the night, we can send you home via helicopter tomorrow.  We try to only have Clark fly at night.”

“I’ll let you know what she’s going to do,” Tony told Lex.

Clark happily followed Lex out of the apartment, and then Abby was left with Tony.

She collapsed on the couch next to him.  “Oh, my God, tell me everything!  I am in love with him.  And with Lex, and with you.  I love everything about this.  Where’s Gibbs?  I want to be in love with him, too.”

“Gibbs is doing a thing with Lex’s chief of security.  Even if he is just visiting, he started bossing everyone around about ten minutes after he showed up.”

Abby snorted and then burst into laughter.

“He’ll be home in about an hour.  Get yourself some ice cream, and I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

Abby was back in a few minutes with a full bowl and a spoon.  She cuddled up to Tony and said, “Okay, fill me in, and start at the beginning.”

Tony put his arm around her shoulder, and thought about where it all started, wondering if he should start with Clark coming to Earth, or with Clark ripping Lex out of a Porsche to save his life.  Or maybe he should talk about Batman, or Superman, and their plans for a justice league of superheroes.  After thinking about it, he decided he’d start at the beginning, Tony’s beginning, and how he decided to come visit his cousin, Martha.

* * *

They were still sitting on the couch when Gibbs got home.  Abby sprang up and moved to give him a hug.  He hugged her back, pleased to see her.  “Abby, what are you doing here?”

“Tony was lonely, so he sent Clark to pick me up.”

“Ah, you’ve experienced the Superman Express?” Gibbs said with a smile.

She had a dreamy look on her face.  “All of it is just too good to be true.  I can’t wait to start helping.”  She shot a guilty look at Gibbs.  “Oops.  Don’t worry, I won’t leave until you do.”

“Suppose I don’t?” Gibbs said.

“Are you serious?  You’d go back to NCIS after this?  This is huge.  This is protecting the world huge.  This is bigger than NCIS or the US Marine Corp.  This is huge!”

Gibbs let her rant without answering.  Any discussion about this would be had with Tony first.  Speaking of Tony, Gibbs leant down to kiss Tony on the lips.

“Mmm,” Tony said happily.

Abby let out a sigh.  “You two together are so great.  Now I just need to find me a man.”

“I predict you and Bruce Wayne will be soul mates,” Tony said.  

Gibbs smacked Tony on the back of his head.  “Stop playing matchmaker.”

Tony just grinned at Gibbs, pulling him down to sit next to him.  “It’s true.  He’ll build her an apartment in the bat cave, and the two of them will live happily ever after.  He might be Bruce Wayne, playboy millionaire on the outside, but on the inside he’s a tortured goth looking for his gothess.”

Gibbs snorted at that.  Tony was probably right.  “You spending the night?”

I’m torn,” she said.  “I want to go home tonight so Clark can take me, but I want to go home tomorrow so I can ride in a helicopter, plus get to visit with you guys longer.”

“Notice how we came second?” Tony mentioned to Gibbs.

“I did,” he said.

“Oh, you know I love you guys.  Besides, Tim told me how in love with your helicopter you are.”

“I really am,” Tony said with a wide smile.  “And do what you want to do the most.  There’ll be plenty of opportunities to go flying with Clark or ride in the helicopters.”

Abby nodded happily, almost bouncing as she sat in the chair across from Tony and Gibbs.  “So you like Lex?” she asked Gibbs.

“I do.”  And it was true.  Gibbs had only grown to respect Lex more as he’d gotten to know him better.  Not that Lex didn’t have a lot to learn, but he had a will of iron, and Gibbs respected that.  He also had a work ethic Gibbs admired, and he was as fiercely protective of the people he cared about as Gibbs was.  In fact, Gibbs saw a lot of himself in Lex.

“Okay,” Abby said.  “I’m staying the weekend.  I can’t bear to leave now, anyway.  This is so exciting.”

“And it will still be exciting tomorrow,” Gibbs said.  “But right now Tony needs to go to bed.”

“See?” Tony said to Abby.  “Hovering.”

Ignoring Tony, Gibbs said, “Get up, come on.  You’ll be miserable tomorrow if you don’t get a good night’s sleep.”  He could tell that Tony was in some pain as well, although he did a good job hiding it.  “Where are your pain pills?”

“I don’t need any.”

Gibbs walked into the kitchen and found the bottle, shaking one out into his hand.  “Just one.”  If Tony didn’t take any, he was restless all night, keeping Gibbs up.

Tony took it without further complaint, which told Gibbs Tony was just as glad to take it. 

“Say goodnight Abby.”

“Goodnight Abby,” Tony said.

“I’ll be back out in a minute and get you set up in our guest room,” Gibbs said.

“Which Lex kitted out,” Tony said, “so it’s the height of luxury.”

That was true as well.  Gibbs had never stayed anyplace as nice.  Jenny had had a beautiful home, but it had been too oppressive for Gibbs.  This place was filled with eclectic, beautiful, and exquisitely made wood furniture.  Sometimes Gibbs thought Lex had bought it as a favor to Tony, to add one more reason for Gibbs to stay. 

“Cool,” Abby said with a grin.

“Oh, tell Lex that Clark’s off the hook,” Tony told Gibbs.

“I’ll call him as soon as I have you settled.”

Tony let Gibbs pull him up off the sofa and then into the bedroom.  He turned down the bed while Tony brushed his teeth and used the bathroom.  Tony came out of the bathroom, pulling his clothes off.  He tumbled carefully into bed, and Gibbs lay down next to him.

“Don’t be long,” Tony said.  “I sleep better with you here.”

“I won’t,” Gibbs said.  “I’ll just talk to Lex and then show Abby where everything is.  Don’t wait for me, though.  If you get sleepy, go to sleep.”

“Yes, Dad,” Tony said.

Gibbs kissed him, long and deep, just to remind Tony that he wasn’t his father.  When he was done, he pulled back, enjoying the look of a thoroughly kissed Tony.  “Love you.”

“Me, too,” Tony said, sounding half asleep already.  This, more than anything, was the barometer Gibbs used to see how Tony’s recovery was going.  Tony was still barely lasting through a few kisses before he faded off to sleep. 

Gibbs kissed him again, then shut the light off, and headed out to Abby.

* * *

**May Year Two**

 

**Jonathan:**

Somewhere, beyond the grave, Jonathan knew Lionel Luthor was laughing his ass off at the thought that a Luthor had broken up his marriage.  Jonathan had always known that Lionel was sweet on Martha.  If Martha had stayed in the city, it might have been Lionel that Martha married, but instead, she’d married him.

Jonathan stared at the divorce papers sitting in front of him wondering how it had all gone so wrong.  Well, that part was easy.  Lex.  Sometimes Jonathan wished the boy had just died in that car accident.  It made him ashamed to think it, but everything would still be the same if he had.  Martha and Clark would still be in Smallville, the farm would have never been destroyed forcing them to live someplace else, and Clark would be dating Chloe or maybe Lana, because maybe she’d still be alive if Lex had never moved to Smallville.  Clark would be doing his homework in the loft, not working with private tutors, even if Clark seemed to be thriving with this type of schooling. 

The last time he’d seen Martha, close to six weeks ago now, she'd been as beautiful as he’d ever seen her.  She and Clark seemed closer than ever, and it was obvious life in Metropolis agreed with her.  That grated badly.  He’d been afraid of this very thing when they’d first met: the city mouse and the country mouse.  When Martha had read that story out loud to Clark when he was a boy, she’d smiled at Jonathan over their son's head. 

But Martha had taken to country life with her usual grace and never seemed to look back.  But he’d been right to fear; she was once again a city mouse, and it made Jonathan feel like a country hack. 

It didn’t help to know that the clothes she was wearing now, the apartment she lived in, and the tutors for Clark, were all supplied by Lex.  Jonathan knew he wasn’t being entirely fair.  She was working, not just lounging around eating bonbons as Lex paid for her existence.  She worked hard, and she was proud of her new job.  But, still, at the end of the day, everything came down to Lex, and Jonathan didn’t know how to explain his insidiousness to Martha in a way that would cut through her resistance and make her open her eyes and see.  He was like Kudzu.  It would show up in your back yard, and if you didn’t root it out immediately, the next thing you knew, it was everywhere, and nothing less than a flame thrower was going to beat it back.

Jonathan wanted to turn the clock back.  Him and Chloe.  Chloe came over every couple of weeks and stayed for dinner, and the two of them kept rehashing the whole thing, without mentioning the auction or Clark’s powers, of course, and she was as bewildered as Jonathan was.  It made Jonathan feel better, because he knew he was a stubborn cuss, but if Chloe felt the same way about Lex, and about being abandoned, then Jonathan couldn’t be all wrong.

Jonathan got up and stared out the window.  He could smell the rich earth, and hear the soft bellow of the cows as they stamped their feet impatiently, waiting to be milked.  This farm was in his blood as surely as his platelets and red blood cells, and he knew he wouldn’t survive for any length of time away from it.  He’d slowly shrivel up inside, until there was nothing but unhappiness left there. 

Martha had suggested that he move to Metropolis, and he'd known that if he'd gone he might have been able to save his marriage.  It killed him to admit it, but he’d lose Martha easier than he’d lose the country.  Not easy, never that.  A part of him would die with losing her, but he’d get through it by walking the perimeter of his property, and running his hands over the stalks of corn, and feeling his strength as he lifted a bale of hay, and watched the sun rise and set in the bluest, purest sky, uncluttered by skyscrapers.

* * *

**Martha:**

"Where's Clark?" Martha asked as she joined Tony in Lex's kitchen for breakfast.  Despite that months had gone by, and despite the fact that Lex had had Lionel's penthouse completely redecorated for her and Clark, making it the most beautiful home she'd ever lived in, and done the same, but with a masculine flair for Tony, they still all came to Lex's for breakfast several days a week.  Today they had extra guests: Abby and Tim. 

She liked them both very much, and was thrilled at the deep friendship that had grown between Clark and Abby.  They were kindred spirits.  Not in the way Lex and Clark were, but just as deep in its way.  It had healed the wound Chloe's and Pete's absences had made, neither of them truly willing to embrace Clark's new lifestyle.  The only time Clark even saw them was on his infrequent visits home, and even then, he didn't spend a lot of time with them.  Clark told her they didn’t have much in common anymore.  He was, though, he told Martha in confidence, a little weirded out by how much time Chloe spent with his dad.

Martha tried not to think about it.  She had decided to divorce him, but it didn't mean she was eager to be replaced so easily, and certainly not by a seventeen-year-old.  She just had to hope that they were friends and nothing more.  Actually, she was reasonably certain that's all it was.  Jonathan wasn't the sort to lose sight of Chloe being Clark's age, not with the stink he consistently raised about Lex and Clark.  Not that she had any right to comment on anything Jonathan did; she'd lost that right as soon as she'd asked Laura to draw up the divorce papers.

“With Lex,” Tony said.

Martha had been deep in her thoughts, and Tony's answer didn't make sense for a moment.  Then she remembered.  Clark.  Who apparently was with Lex.  “Where’s Lex?” Martha asked next.

“In his bedroom,” Abby said.

"Ah," Martha said.  Lex and mornings didn't really like each other very much, and it often took several attempts to pry him out of bed.  For someone who was so driven, Martha found his profound hatred of mornings to be very amusing.

"When are you seeing Jethro again?" she asked Tony. 

Tim smirked, mouthing 'Jethro'.

She was also glad at how Tim and Tony had become fast friends.  She suspected the potential was always there, but the atmosphere at their old job, and the games Jethro played--told to her by Tim and Tony--hadn't exactly provided an easy environment for developing a strong friendship.  With Tony having someone besides Gibbs, and Clark having someone in addition to Lex, it kept everyone on more of an even keel.

"Not soon enough," Tony scowled.  "The man still works too much."

"He's on the next two weekends.  Seems like he thinks all the probies need more call time," Abby said.  She patted Tony on the head.  "He hasn't forgotten you."

Tony pouted anyway.  Martha smiled at him, having no doubt that Gibbs truly loved him.  Tony knew that, too, he was just tired of having a long-distance relationship.  Of course, they were luckier than most in this same situation, given the fact that between Clark and the helicopters, they had relatively easy access to each other.

"I still can't believe Ziva went back to Israel," Tim said. 

"If I could have figured out a way to bring her here, I would have," Tony said.  "But I couldn't.  Daddy dearest could have called her home anytime and having her know what was going on here would not have been a good thing."

"And I can't believe you quit before Gibbs did," Tim added to Abby.

"I know," she said with an unhappy face.  "He wasn't thrilled either, but I had to come.  I had to.  Things are just way too cool, here.  Besides, except for Gibbs and the nuns, all my best buds are here."

"Maybe you should check on Lex and Clark," Martha suggested to Tony.  There could be any number of reasons for why they weren't coming out, including Clark having taken Lex through the window to someplace far away, something he'd done on more than one occasion, deciding Lex needed coffee from Morocco, or Paris, or New Orleans, to really help wake him up.  It could also mean that Clark had lain down on the bed and they were both fast asleep.  Or it could mean that Clark was reading and Lex was working.

There was also the chance, though, that Lex had gotten cornered by Clark in the closet again.  She felt that Lex should win an award for how deftly he deflected Clark's never-ending amorous intentions.  Clark had been patient the first year of this new life of theirs, but once he'd turned seventeen, he had, as Lex had put it one evening in a moment of rare exasperation with Clark, grown at least six more hands.

As she watched Tony sneak down to Lex's room, Martha found it amusing that even though anyone outside the family would blame Lex for the situation they were in, this was all on Clark.  Lex was the one playing the role of blushing virgin, demanding things be legal before consummation.  She supposed most mothers would be horrified at the fact that she found it amusing, but she had absolutely no doubt that Lex and Clark were going to spend their lives together.  She also had the privilege of knowing the worth of her future son-in-law, in ways that had nothing to do with money, and knew that Clark couldn't be in better or more loving hands.

Under Lex's steady love, and heavy application of tutors, Clark had matured into a man right under Martha's wondering eyes.  She also had Tony, Abby, Jethro, Tim, Bruce, and even Alfred, to thank as well, all of them offering Clark a spectrum of marvelous role models.  He'd passed his high school equivalency test two months ago, and was already working on college credit courses.  At the same time, she'd never seen him laugh more, or just seem to enjoy life more, and it made her chest tight with gratitude. 

If she didn't know him and had to guess his age, she'd put him in his mid-twenties without even thinking about it.  He looked older, moved older, spoke older.  It was another reason she wasn't worried about Clark and Lex.  A year ago, Clark had been a teenager through and through.  Now, he wasn't.  Not anymore.  In many ways, Lex was the more vulnerable one, still carrying wounds from a loveless childhood, and months of unkindness--and there was no other word for it--from her and Jonathan.

She was sorry that Jonathan had gotten lost in all of it.  But Clark had been right, the farm wasn't the place for him anymore, and her place was with Clark.  Jonathan's place wasn't the city, so there was no way there could be a happy ending.  Jonathan had also never lost his anger at Lex, and it made it hard to speak to him about anything when he stared at her with shades of disapproval, as if she'd made a deal with the devil.  As Clark had said about his friends, Martha and Jonathan didn't seem to have much in common anymore.

Tony crept back in, saying, "They're both fast asleep."

Clark didn't like mornings very much, either.  At least it was Saturday, and neither of them had anything pressing to do.  Lex and Clark often went out on their own Saturday nights, although it was just as likely that they'd all go out, or all stay in and have dinner here.  The press had given up trying to make sense of Lex's new life.  For a while they'd paired Lex up with any of them, including her—and, Lord, hadn't that been a fight with Jonathan--but when life carried on, and other news took precedence, the wild guesses stopped, and even the paparazzi, while not gone completely, were mostly off after more exciting and controversial game.

If anyone had asked her a year ago, or rather a year and one month ago, where she'd be right now, she would have told them that her life would be much as it had been the year before.  Struggling to make ends meet on the farm, baking her pies, delivering vegetables, helping out with the endless chores, being a farmer's wife; it was what she had seen for herself.

Now, as much as it pained her to leave all of that behind, because much of her marriage to Jonathan had been lovely, filled with his rough and tumble love and his protective nature, and she'd been there long enough to grow to love the land, despite all of that, this life satisfied so much in her that she'd had to let go when she'd chosen that life.  She had fulfilling work, a wonderful network of friends, including a new best friend, Laura, a happy son, and an exciting and sometimes breath-stealing future to look forward to. 

She realized that Clark, at some point, might have found a way to use his powers without giving up his regular life, but he would have done it on his own, without the vast network Bruce, Tim, and Abby were creating to keep him in touch with them no matter where he was.  The thought of Clark out there alone, dealing with the worst of what life had to offer, without anyone there to help, truly did terrify her.

There were still eleven months to go before Bruce and Clark would make their debut, but it became more real every day.  Her eyes ran over Tony, delighted that he'd found his place as well.  It was as if he'd been able to keep the best parts of his life and disregard the rest, and she'd never seen him so content. 

Abby and Tim had seamlessly become a part of the family, and Abby and Bruce had been seen around town on occasion, something that broke Lex up.  They were all happy.  She was happy.  And even more importantly, her son was happy. 

* * *

**Washington, DC**

**Gibbs:**

"Why are you still here?" Ducky asked Gibbs.

Gibbs looked up from the file he was looking through, looked at his watch, and frowned.  "It's not even four."

"No, no, I don't mean here, as in today, I mean here, as in here."  Ducky gestured expansively to take in all of NCIS.

Gibbs didn't really have a good answer, so he just waited for Ducky to say whatever he'd come up to say. 

"I'm going to retire," Ducky announced.  "It's time.  Past time, actually.  Now that mother had passed on, I'd like to see some of the world while I still have all my teeth."

Gibbs felt a pang at the thought of Ducky leaving, but he still found himself smiling at Ducky's turn of phrase.  He found it easier to smile about everything these days. 

"I'd like to think that when I leave, you'll already be gone."

"Ducky."

"Don't.  There's really no excuse, is there?  Or at least not one worth talking about."

Ducky had heard it all, and it all boiled down to it being easier to stay than it would be to leave.  He wanted to be with Tony, and Tony sure as hell wasn't coming back.  Abby and Tim were already there, and even Ziva had left, so all he had on his team were three relatively new agents. 

Lex had put an offer on the table the last time he'd gone to visit, a very attractive offer.  He and Lex had come to truly appreciate each other, and Gibbs didn't think he'd have any issues working for the man, despite his age and relative inexperience.  Lex knew when to listen, and he recognized talent, and never let his ego stand in the way when someone else knew more than him.  Gibbs understood why Mark Hudson had left a career with Blackwater Security to work with Lex. 

Tony had once told him they were building the future out in Metropolis and Gotham City, and he was right.  Next May, the world would never be the same again, and Gibbs wanted to be a part of it.  Not to mention wanting to be a part of it with Tony. 

The long distance thing was a drag, but other than that, this thing he had with Tony was so strong and true, it felt more real than his memories of Shannon, something he never thought could happen.  And somehow, between Clark and Lex, not to mention Tim and Abby on occasion, it was like he had been given the gift of children as well.  "You're right," he said.

"What?" Ducky asked, taken off guard.

"You're right.  There's no reason for me to still be here."  He stood up.  "Let's go talk to Vance."

"Really?" Ducky said with a surprised but happy smile on his face.

"Really.  It's time.  Like you said, it's past time."  Gibbs' home wasn't here anymore.  It hadn't been for months.  Whenever he could, he went to see Tony in Metropolis, and the time they spent here together was dwindling.  He liked it there.  He liked the people there.  He liked what they were doing there.  And he liked sharing a home with Tony.  "Besides, having me retire will help ease the blow of you retiring.  They'll sort of cancel each other out."

Ducky snorted.  "Don't sell yourself short, my friend.  You might be a burr under the saddle for our dear director, but you will be sorely missed as a resource."

"They'll get by," Gibbs said.

"I suppose they will," Ducky agreed.

"And I hope that Metropolis ends up on your world-wide itinerary," Gibbs said.  "I've got some people I'd like you to meet."

Ducky beamed at him.  "I shall make it one of my first stops."

As Gibbs walked up the stairs to Vance's office, he thought that with Ducky leaving, it truly was time to move on.  With Ducky gone, there'd be no one left to keep him tethered to NCIS.  Everyone he truly cared about was in another state, waiting for him.  At that thought, he took the last few steps at a quicker pace.  He wanted to get this done so he could call Tony.

* * *

**Metropolis**

**Tony:**

Tony closed his phone and let out a whoop.

His new friends and family, or at least most of them, looked up at him.  They were all scattered around his living room, most of them half asleep from the huge Italian dinner he'd made for all of them.  Tim was the only one missing tonight, other than Gibbs and Bruce.  Tim was working on something with Bruce, and while they'd said they'd try to get here, Tony had no doubt that their eyes were glazed over with geek joy at whatever they were working on.   

"What?" Martha asked, the least somnolent among them, having the sense to decline the seconds and thirds everyone else had eaten.

"Gibbs just quit.  He's moving out here."  Tony couldn't quit smiling.  Gibbs was coming to stay.  No more going back home, or Tony having to fly back here alone.  No more empty beds at night, or missing Gibbs so much it kept Tony staring at the ceiling for hours before falling asleep.

"That's wonderful news," Martha said.  "I'm so glad."

"Me, too," Lex said.  "Is he taking the job I offered him?"

"Yes," Tony said.  Or at least Tony assumed that was the case.  It had been a typical Gibbs phone call, short and sweet and abruptly ended.  Suddenly Tony had to be with him right now.  "Clark, can you fly me there?"

"Now?" Clark complained.  He was lying on the couch, his head resting on Lex's thigh.

"Yes, right now."  Tony stood up, filled with energy.  "Come on, come on, get up."

"Jeez," Clark complained, but he did get up, stretching his arms out.

Tony didn't miss the way Lex enjoyed the view from behind Clark.  He noticed that Martha didn't miss Lex enjoying himself either, as she hid a smile.  Tony sometimes thought they should just go for it.  It wasn't like Martha would mind.  None of them would mind. 

"Are you staying overnight?" Clark asked.  "Do you need a bag or something?"

"No," Tony said.  "Well, yes, I will stay, but I have enough stuff there to get by."  Over time, some of his stuff had ended up at Gibbs', although more of Gibbs' stuff had ended up here.  "Hey, and you all can stay as long as you like.  Just lock up when you go."

"We will," Lex said, who had stretched out on the couch, taking Clark's spot. 

Abby was sitting on the floor and she reached up to tickle his feet.  He nudged her shoulder, grinning at her. 

"I wish I could go with you, so I could come back with Clark," she said wistfully.

Clark could carry two people, but it wasn't comfortable for any of them.  "Another time," Clark said.  "I promise.  I still owe you a trip to Transylvania."

"No," she said.  "I want to go there with Bruce.  I want Lex to get me an air suit, and I want you to take me out of orbit, so I can see the earth from space.  Can you do that?"

Lex blinked at her then a speculative expression crossed his face.  Tony could see many trips out of orbit in Clark's future.  They'd already discovered that he could leave the atmosphere and stay out there for a good solid hour before it became uncomfortable for him.

"I need to take Lex first," Clark said loyally.

"Of course," Abby said.  "Then me, because it was my idea."

Tony figured he could be third.  He put on a jacket; flying with Clark at night could get chilly.  "You ready?"

Clark nodded, leaned down to give Lex a quick kiss, smiled at his mom and Abby, and then joined Tony at the doors to the balcony.  "I won't be long," he said.

"I'll be right here," Lex told him.  He did look like he was settling in for the duration.  Of course, Lex had to love the couch, seeing as it was the same one Lex had in his office.  Well, Martha had that one, but it was the same model, as Lex had bought himself and Tony new ones at the same time.

They walked out onto the balcony and Tony took a quick look around, making sure no one noticed them.  When he nodded, Clark scooped him up, and Tony hung on as Clark leaped into the sky.

* * *

**Lex:**

Shortly after Tony left, Martha stood, doing her own stretching.  "I think I'll turn in."  It was funny how easy it was for her to leave a dirty kitchen, something she wouldn't have thought of doing just a few short months ago.  But the housekeepers who took care of all their suites tended to frown when they found a clean kitchen, as if by cleaning it, Martha was besmirching their ability to do it.

"Me, too," Abby said.  "Although I'm still so full I could pop."

"Then that makes three," Lex said.  "Full and tired.  And I feel badly for Tony that he cooked such a wonderful meal."

"Why?" Abby asked, her brow furrowed.

"Because he'll be doing a lot of it from now on," Lex said with a grin.

"I know," Abby laughed.  "And he's getting a piece of my mind for never cooking for me before.  I didn't even know he could cook.  He used to bring these wonderful Italian dishes to our potlucks, and he always said his favorite Italian restaurant had whipped it together for him."

"Yeah, Chez DiNozzo," Lex said.

Abby headed for the door, then turned around and made for the kitchen.  "I'm stealing leftovers."

"Oh, we probably should put those away," Martha said.

"I can help."  Lex forced himself to sit up and then stand.

"No, no," Abby said, aiming a butter knife at them with a flourish.  "I want them all.  Mwahahaha.  Back away slowly."

Lex put his hands up in a surrender position, and Martha just laughed.  She moved to Lex and said softly, "I know it will probably be late when Clark gets home, so I'll understand if he chooses to stay with you tonight.  Or any night."

Lex's eyes widened, not sure if she was saying what he thought she was saying.  He needed some clarification.  Lex never wanted to do anything to disappoint her.  "Martha."

She put a hand on his chest.  "I trust you, Lex.  I know you're not going anywhere.  I know you'd never hurt him.  And between you and me, although I don't think I'm telling you anything you don't know, you'll never make it through the year.  I'm very familiar with Clark's persistent and stubborn nature."

Lex could feel his face redden.  He was also becoming very acquainted with Clark's persistent and stubborn nature.  Very intimately acquainted.  He'd been thinking that he might have to move to Siberia, someplace very, very cold.  "I said I'd wait, and I will."

"I know.  And a year ago, I would have insisted on it.  But you've seen him.  He's not a teenager anymore, except by some arbitrary age we gave him.  Haven't you seen him change?"

"I have," Lex said with a sigh.  It had only made Clark more attractive.  And he was starting to relate to Clark's jealous nature, when all Lex saw when they went out were heads turning to gawk at Clark.  He was beautiful.

She let out a silent laugh.  "Try to get some sleep.  If Clark will let you."

There was a happy shriek behind them and Abby bounded up.  "Are you giving Lex permission to finally let Clark ravish him?  Oh, my God, to be a fly on that wall."  She fanned herself.  Then, with a comedic opening of her eyes, she noticed Martha and Lex staring at her.  "Oh, sorry.  Too much information?"

"For me, yes.  He is my son," Martha said sternly, although there was a small curl of a grin on her lips.  "And with that, I think I'll leave."  She was smiling for real, though, as she opened the door and then shut it behind her.    

Lex and Abby watched her leave.  "Oops," Abby said.

Lex started laughing.  Life had gotten immeasurably more entertaining once Abby had joined them.  She was the most guileless person Lex had ever met, Tim not far behind.  He thought of the two of them working with Tony and Gibbs, and wondered how on earth it had worked.  Then, again, people could say the same thing about him and Clark, another set of opposites in many ways.

"If you guys ever want an audience," Abby started to say.

"Stop," Lex said loudly.  "We won't."  He couldn't imagine sharing Clark with anyone, even just to watch.

Abby sighed.  "Oh, well.  I can still think about it."

"Go away now," Lex told her.  It wouldn't take Clark long to get back, and he wanted Abby gone by then.  "Really, go away."

"At least I have leftovers," she said fatalistically, but then she gave Lex a quick hug and headed for the door.

* * *

**Washington, DC**

**Tony and Gibbs**

Gibbs let out a sigh.  He'd sent his team home early or, to be accurate, he'd sent them home on time, but he hadn't been able to bring himself to leave yet.  Despite Tony's glee at Gibbs' news, Gibbs was now filled with a sense of melancholy he didn't understand or appreciate.

He felt a little overwhelmed at what he'd just done.  The Marines, or some form of the Marines, had been his life since he'd left home right after high school.  The thought of doing something different, someplace else, with different people, at his age, felt a little daunting. 

Quitting, though, had been easier than he'd expected.  Vance hadn't been the least bit surprised; had, in fact, been waiting for it.  Ducky was more of a surprise to Leon, and only Ducky's promise to find a good replacement mollified the director.  Gibbs had noticed wryly that no such request had been made of him.  He was sure the director wanted to replace Gibbs with someone of his own choosing, not anyone Gibbs might have picked.  It still stung, though, just a little, that he could be let go of so easily.

In any case, it wasn't Gibbs' problem anymore.  His new team had taken the news fairly well, and it made him miss his old team, Ziva, and Kate before her, Tim and Abby, and Tony, of course.  They'd have tried to talk him out of it, especially Tony.  Then, Tony probably would have followed him to wherever he went next.  Instead, Gibbs was following Tony, something he never would have thought possible a year ago.

He glanced around his cubicle.  There wasn't much to take with him.  Odd, considering how long he'd been there, that he'd brought in so few personal items.  The ones he had brought in were practical in nature, like a change of clothes, some toiletries.

His phone rang and when he glanced at it, he saw it was Tony.  "Gibbs."

"Where the hell are you?" Tony yelled at him.

"What?"

"Where are you?" Tony asked slower as if Gibbs didn't speak English well.

"I'm still at work."

"Are you working a case?"

"No."

"Then why are you still there?"

"Because I haven't left yet.  And what difference does it make to you if I'm still at work?"

"Because I'm at your house.  I'm naked, and I'm lubed, and I'm draped decoratively over your living room table.  So, again, I ask, where the hell are you?"

Gibbs grew hot and flushed at the image of Tony over his table, waiting for him, and he was on his feet and grabbing his jacket, sprinting for the door.  "On my way home."

"Good answer," Tony said, and hung up.

Gibbs laughed all the way to the garage, all traces of his melancholy gone.  As he drove home, he kept thinking of Tony, hoping he hadn't exaggerated, hoping he really was naked, and lubed, and ready for Gibbs to just strip and thrust inside of him.  Sex with Tony was unlike any sex Gibbs had ever had.  The man was insatiable, imaginative, and didn't have a shy bone in his body.  He'd try anything once, and even if he wasn't crazy about it, he'd do it for Gibbs if it turned his crank. 

It had taken Tony a couple of tries to stop laughing the last time they'd done a role play, but finally Tony had stopped giggling, and managed to be appropriately menacing playing an FBI agent ordering Gibbs to put his hands on the wall and spread 'em.  He'd even slapped Gibbs around a little, and the memory of how that particular arrest ended had Gibbs hard as a rock, and he squeezed himself, needing to get under control before he drove off the road.

He pulled into his garage, thought about calling Tony to make sure he was ready, but then decided Tony had to have heard the garage door.  Gibbs opened the door into the kitchen, stripped out of his jacket, but otherwise stayed dressed.  Tony loved being fucked by Gibbs when he still had most of his clothes on, and Gibbs was happy to oblige.

Gibbs walked into the dining room and found Tony just as he'd promised.  Naked and sprawled on the dining room table, his ass gleaming from lube.  He didn't say a thing.  The only clue Gibbs had that Tony knew he was there, was that his ass tightened up, drawing Gibbs' eyes right to it; not that he needed any direction.  Gibbs undid his belt, unzipped his pants, pulled himself out still hard and leaking.  Grabbing Tony's legs, he yanked him back until Gibbs was lined up perfectly, and pulling his ass cheeks apart, Gibbs pushed inside with one hard thrust.

Tony grunted in pleasure, and probably a little pain, too, but Tony liked a little pain, as long as there was plenty of pleasure to balance it with. 

In a few days, Gibbs thought to himself, he could do this every day.  Not this particular act, but sex with Tony, sleeping with Tony, being with Tony.  Every day.  He grabbed Tony's hips and thrust in hard again.

He leaned down and sucked a spot on Tony's back, leaving a love bite behind.  He chose another spot and did it again.  Gibbs liked it when Tony was clearly marked. 

Tony groaned in pleasure, saying, "More.  Mark me up."  Tony liked it, too.

Gibbs bit him again, a little harder, biting down just as he bucked into Tony, making him cry out in just that way that made Gibbs crazy.  Wanting to hear that sound again, he bit Tony again, over and over, until Tony's back was peppered with love bites, and Tony was doing nothing but making that sound, sort of half keen and half moan, and he was shoving back toward Gibbs as hard as Gibbs was pushing into him.

Realizing his orgasm was imminent, Gibbs reached under Tony and wrapped his hand around Tony's hard cock, and that was all it took.  Tony let out a bitten back yell and came all over Gibbs' hand.  Gibbs thrust twice more and jetted inside Tony, collapsing on top of him.

He knew he'd have to move; this could not be comfortable at all for Tony, but Tony was always kind enough to give him a minute.  Gibbs pulled it together as fast as he could, finally slipping out and standing up straight.  He pulled Tony off the table and into a hug.

"I sure as hell hope Clark wasn't somewhere not-listening to that," Gibbs said.

Tony chuckled into his ear.  "I'm sure he's already home, trying to put the moves on Lex."

"I don't know why they just don't do it," Gibbs said.  "Even Martha wouldn't care."

Gibbs had long since gotten past any issues he had with Clark’s age.  Mostly he wanted to be put out of his misery.  The unrelieved sexual tension was taking on a palpable life of its own.

"By the way," Gibbs added, "hey."  He kissed Tony this time, running his hands down his back and grabbing his ass.  "Nice surprise."

"It would have been nicer if you'd been home," Tony said.

"No, it wouldn't," Gibbs said.  "That was just what I needed to get me out of there.  I was stuck."

"Good," Tony said.  "I just had to be with you after you called.  I needed to get started on our happily ever after right away."

"You sure you want this?  I’m still a bastard."

"Yes, I'm sure, and no, you're not.  I mean, you are a little, but you've mellowed."

"I have not," Gibbs said, affronted at the very thought.

"You really have.  I think it's the regular sex."

Gibbs thought it was probably Tony.  "You are staying the night, yes?"  Gibbs didn't think it would be much of a start if Tony had to leave some time soon.

"Absolutely."

Gibbs found himself wrapped up in Tony's arms, and suddenly he couldn't wait to be done with his notice and living in Metropolis.

* * *

**Metropolis**

**Lex and Clark**

Clark landed on the balcony and opened the door back into Tony's apartment.  Only Lex and Abby were still there, and Abby looked like she was sulking.

"Hey," Clark said.  "What's going on?"

"Abby's stealing all the leftovers," Lex said without a hint of remorse.

Abby squeaked and ran for the door, slamming it shut behind her.

"You let her go?" Clark asked in dismay.

"I did," Lex said.  "Want to come over to my place?"

"Sure," Clark said with a smile.  He'd never say no to spending time with Lex.  Lex held his hand out, and Clark took it eagerly.  They walked hand in hand to the elevators, and Lex used his card key to take them upstairs.

For no reason that he could explain, Clark's heart was pounding in anticipation.  Maybe it was Lex, the small smile on his face, the fact that he was half hard.  Clark did his best not to undress Lex with his x-ray vision, not always succeeding, but Lex's pants were tight enough that Clark could see without any use of his powers. 

It made Clark all the way hard, and he couldn't stop staring at Lex, at the smoothness of his skin, knowing that it covered hard muscle.  He wanted to touch Lex everywhere, and see him naked for real, spread out on his bed, legs open, inviting Clark to do anything he wanted.

Clark found himself running right into Lex, so consumed by his fantasies that he hadn't realized they’d been moving.  He didn’t even remember getting off the elevator.  He wrapped an arm around Lex to keep him from stumbling forward, and that was when he saw they were in Lex's bedroom.

Clark had spent a lot of time here before, even slept in the bed with Lex on occasion.  But it looked different now.  Or maybe Lex was different now.  Something was different, and it made Clark's stomach leap.  "Lex?"

Lex turned in his arms and kissed him.  Kissed him for real.  With intent.  With a wet tongue, and roaming hands that ran down his back to his ass and back up.  Then they were on his ass again, and Lex prodded Clark close enough so their erections pressed against each other.  

"God," Clark said, rubbing against Lex.  "Please don't stop.  Please."  Lex wasn't a tease.  He hadn't been a tease once, but Clark found it hard to believe he was finally going to get what he'd been waiting for.

"I won't," Lex promised.  "I won't ever stop."

Clark wasn't sure what had happened, why Lex was giving in, but he didn't care.  At all.  All he wanted was more of the same.

Lex pushed Clark's flannel shirt off his shoulders and let it drop to the floor.  His t-shirt was next, Lex's hands pushing it up his body, his hands hot on Clark's flesh and then it was over his head and joining the flannel on the floor.

"Beautiful man," Lex said, his lips kissing Clark's chest, then his tongue teased at a nipple.

"God," Clark said, humping Lex's leg.  His entire body felt turned on, every inch.  He was like one of those movies that implies someone having an orgasm by rapid waves coming into shore, or rockets going off, or fireworks in the sky.  That was how his body felt, like there were fireworks right under his skin.  And then he was coming in his pants, and Lex hadn't even touched him.

Mortified, Clark buried his face in Lex's shoulder, sure that Lex must think he was monumentally inexperienced, and clearly a dud in the being good in bed department.  Not only had Lex not touched him, but Clark hadn't even begun to touch Lex.  "I'm sorry," he muttered.

"For what?" Lex said, sounding honestly surprised.  He put his hand on Clark's crotch, and Clark felt his cock, even having just come, leap under Lex's fingers.  "For this?"  Lex grinned at him.  "We're just getting started, Clark.  This is just your body taking the edge off.  By the time we're through, you'll be able to hold it until I tell you that you can come."

Clark was already half-hard just at the thought.  He searched Lex's eyes, saw nothing but love and arousal there, and he let go some of his fear.  He still wished he had some experience, though.  Or maybe he wished Lex had less.  At any rate, something so there wasn't this huge chasm between them.

"Hey," Lex said, running a hand through Clark's hair.  "We can stop, you know."

"Don't you dare," Clark said, grabbing Lex and pulling him closer.  No way was he letting Lex out of this room before Clark got his hands on him.

"Then what's wrong?"

"I just wish I knew what I was doing," Clark said.  "I mean, not that I don't know what I'm doing.  I've read a lot, and fantasized a lot, but--"

"Clark," Lex said.

Clark waited, as Lex looked like he was thinking.

"I know there's a large difference in the amount of sex we've had.  Part of me wishes this was all new to me, too, but part of me feels like all the sex I've had has just been so I can use it to make this night as special as it can be for you, for both of us.  There isn't anyone I'd rather have in my bed.  Tonight, or ever.  There isn't anyone who turns me on the way you do.  Who loves me the way you do.  And I've never loved anyone, ever, before you.  There isn't anything you can do wrong tonight, I promise you.  Okay?"

Clark nodded, his heart aching with his love for the man he held, finally held, the way he wanted to.  "Okay."

"Now, let's get you out of those pants," Lex said with a grin.  "They've got to be growing uncomfortable."

They were, but Clark hadn't really minded.  He readily let Lex strip him out of the rest of his clothes, until he was standing naked in front of Lex.

Lex had gotten on his knees to get Clark's socks off, and to slip his pants over his feet.  From his knees he stared up at Clark, and Clark blushed at the look of admiration and lust in Lex's eyes.  His cock was already hard for the second time, and it was bobbing at Lex, as if it were trying to get his attention.

Clark could feel himself blush again, especially because Lex was still fully clothed; he even had his shoes on.  Clark had kicked his off as soon as they'd entered Lex's suite.  Then, he wasn't thinking about that at all, because Lex opened his lips and took Clark's cock deep inside his mouth.

Clark almost lost his balance, and Lex had to put his hands on Clark's hips to keep him from falling.  Lex let him go long enough to grin at him and then took him back in his mouth.

The feeling was electrifying, and if Clark had thought he was experiencing fireworks before, he was wrong.  Compared to this, that had been like sparklers on the Fourth of July.  This was the grand finale.  He put his hands on Lex's head, and held on tight.

"Clark."

Clark slowly began to realize that the wonderful feeling had gone away.  "What?"

"Clark," Lex said again.

"What?"

"You need to lighten your grip," Lex said.

Clark blinked at his words, trying to get them to make sense, considering the still hyper-aroused state of his body.  He looked down and, under his fingers, there were bruises on Lex's skin.

Instantly horrified, Clark backed away, away from Lex, not believing he'd lost control like that.  "Jesus," Clark said.  "I could have crushed your head.  I could have killed you."  He really could have.  He might have looked down and found his fingers had dug ten holes in Lex's skull.  He felt suddenly sick to his stomach, and dropped to his knees, holding his stomach.

Lex was off his knees and by his side right away, but Clark wouldn't look at him, and he kept his hands to himself.  "I could have killed you," he said again.  "God, I'm such a freak."

"Clark, you're not.  You just got excited.  All you did was bruise me.  That's all.  Even my human lovers bruised me.  You know how easily I bruise."

"I was hurting you," Clark said.

"I know, but you stopped when I asked.  It's okay."  Lex tried to get to Clark's hands, but Clark had his arms wrapped tight, his hands under his armpits. 

"Suppose I don't.  Suppose I really hurt you."

"I won't let you."

"And how would you stop me if I ended up poking holes in your skull?  Or ended up squeezing you too hard and shattered your ribs?"

"That won't happen."

"I already hurt you, and we’ve barely started."

"And you'll probably hurt me again.  It's okay.  I heal fast, remember?"

"Not if I dig my thumb into your brain."

"Clark.  You've been controlling yourself for a long time.  I have no doubt that you'd catch on to something being wrong long before you could actually do me some harm.  Not to mention, I'm not about to just lay there while you make Swiss cheese out of me.  Come on.  Let me have your hands."

Clark let his eyes wander over Lex's bald head, wincing at the bruises that were starkly evident against his pale skin.  Maybe Lex would wear a hat tomorrow.  Maybe he'd grow a full head of hair by tomorrow.  Maybe Clark could just stay in this room and never come out because everyone would see those bruises and know Clark made them.

"Come on," Lex cajoled. 

"Why aren't you afraid of me?"

"Because you love me," Lex said.  "And I knew this would happen at least once, and now that it has, you'll be more aware of what's going on.  I wish you didn't have to be.  I wish you could just completely let go, but unless I have you tied to at least give you a moment's pause before you rip through the ropes, you'll have to always be paying a little attention."

Clark didn't think it would be a hardship at all to be always paying attention to Lex.  He already did it most of the time.  "I love paying attention to you."

Lex smiled at him.  "Good.  Now let me have your hands."

Clark finally unclenched his arms, and he presented his hands to Lex.

Lex placed a kiss in each palm.  "Want to try that again?"

Still not sure he could be trusted, Clark hesitated.

Lex looked around the room.  "Come with me."  Lex stood and held a hand down to Clark.  Clark took his hand, and accepted Lex's unnecessary but welcome help in getting to his own feet.  Lex took him into the bathroom and he put Clark's back to the tub, and raised his hands, encouraging him to grasp the metal curtain rod.

"This will just fall down," Clark said.

"It won't.  It's embedded in the walls.  Besides, it's just to remind you where your hands are.  I really think this is all just because this is all new to you.  Once you have a few orgasms under your belt, you'll be fine."

Clark wasn't sure about that at all, but he'd gotten very used to trusting Lex, so he tightened his hold on the metal bar and watched as Lex sank back to his knees.  This time, he wasn't as sex-stupid, so he got to watch as Lex sized him up, stuck his tongue out and gave the tip a few exploratory licks.  It didn't take long to get achingly hard again, and Clark let out a groan as Lex swallowed him down again.

It did take some effort to stay tuned in enough to keep his hands where they were, as he wanted them to be on Lex, but Clark kept them above his head, feeling the solid strength of the metal as he clenched down on it whenever Lex did something else amazing, like touch his balls, or suck hard enough that his cheeks hollowed.

Clark had never felt anything like this in his life.  He'd given himself plenty of hand jobs, and those had felt pretty good, but this was beyond anything he could imagine.  He could feel his balls tighten up as Lex caressed them, and then, before he could warn Lex, he was shooting down his mouth in an orgasm that had him curling his toes into the Italian tile on the floor, and making his eyes roll back in his head.

"There," Lex said in satisfaction.  "Nothing happened that time."

That was when the shower rod came crashing down, the metal buckling under Clark's hands, leaving gaping holes on the wall where the ends of the rod had been embedded.  One side came down too fast before Clark even understood what was happening.  For a second, he'd thought it was an earthquake, but then the rod was smacking into Lex and Lex was falling over, and then the other side was coming down.  Clark caught that end, and put the whole thing down on the ground, which is when he saw that his toes that had felt so good while he was coming, had actually cracked Lex's Italian tile, from Italy, destroying a whole row of them.

Mortified, he stared at Lex, expecting to see a look of horror on his face.  Instead, while Lex was holding his arm where the rod had hit him, he was helplessly laughing, laughing harder than Clark had ever seen him laugh.  "That w-will t-t-teach m-me," he stuttered out, before breaking out into more gales of laughter.

Clark wasn't sure what to do.  He felt silly being naked all of sudden, and he didn't really want to stay in the bathroom and stare at how he'd destroyed it.  Wanting the safety of the bed, someplace soft and without anything that could fall on Lex and hurt him, Clark picked him up and blurred to the bed, placing Lex on the comforter, and falling down next to him.

The move slowed down Lex's laughter, and he was mostly laughing silently now, with an occasional riff of laughter breaking through it.  "God, Clark, that was awesome," Lex finally said, wiping tears from his eyes.  "I can't remember the last time I laughed like that."

Clark wasn't sure how he was supposed to feel about that.  "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Lex assured him.  "And I'm sorry I couldn't stop laughing.  I wasn't laughing at you; I was laughing at myself.  I had such dreams of how this night would go.  How I'd be the consummate lover who'd slowly shepherd your way through one magical sexual moment after another."

Clark had sort of thought it might be like that, too.  He hoped Lex wasn't thinking it wasn't worth the effort.

"Get that look off your face," Lex said.  "This is better than anything I was dreaming up."

"Better?" Clark asked in amazement.  "How can this be better?"

"Because it's us.  Because it's me, Lex Luthor, and you, a superstrong alien from another planet.  Because I clearly have no idea what I'm doing, and neither do you, so we get to learn together.  We get to figure this out as we go along, and have it truly be ours.  Yours and mine, and all the crazy things that are going to happen as we try stuff out.  It's better.  More real.  And something we'll be laughing about for the rest of our lives."

Clark loved Lex so much right then, the energy it produced could have flown him to the moon and back in five seconds, and still not even begin to be dispersed.  It was almost as powerful as the orgasm he'd had, and all he could do was lean down and kiss Lex.

Lex happily kissed him back, none of the mishaps apparently dulling his willingness to keep touching Clark.  Now all Clark wanted was Lex naked, so he started to pull on Lex's clothing, hearing buttons pop and spring across the room as they hit the bedside table and the headboard; one pinged on a shelf across the room. 

"Clark, wait," Lex begged.

Clark stopped instantly, his hands back under his armpits.  "God, what now?"

"I just think we need to take it easy with everything we do tonight," Lex said.

That was when Clark realized that Lex's shirt was in shreds, and most of what was left of it was tight around Lex's neck.  "Jesus, now I was choking you?"

That got Lex snickering, and he easily got the remains of his shirt off, and tossed it to the floor.  "Let me do this for you," he offered.

Of course that was when Clark noticed the gigantic bruise on Lex's arm.  "I did that?  With the curtain rod?"  Clark was beginning to believe that Lex might not make it through the night, and if that was the case, they should stop.  "Maybe we should stop."

Lex snorted.  "Are you willing to be celibate for the rest of your life?  Because I'm sure as hell not.  And unless you're going to be okay with me having sex with other people--"

Clark's eyes felt warm just at the thought.

"--and I can tell you're not," Lex said hastily, "then it's me and you or nothing."

Clark flopped back on the bed, embarrassed, humiliated, and still, especially as he watched Lex take off his clothes, completely turned on.  He looked down at his cock, saw that it was totally ready for round three.  "Oh, my God," Clark said in dismay, "you haven't even come once.  Jeez, I'm so bad at this."

Now naked, Lex started laughing again, and he lay down next to Clark.  "Shut up.  Really.  And just kiss me."

It's not like Clark wanted to argue with a command like that, so he did as ordered and pulled Lex close, reveling in all that naked skin next to his.  Lex was really naked, from top to bottom, and in fact, there was his ass, in Clark's hands, and he squeezed and heard Lex moan.  "Uh, that was a good moan, right, not a bad moan like I've just left handprints all over your ass?"

"Good moan," Lex said, doing it again.  "Keep kissing me."

Clark could do that.  He thought he might be pretty good at kissing.  He grabbed at Lex's ass again, then let his hands wander up his back, feeling his shoulder blades, then the nape of his neck, and then Clark was flipping Lex over and kissing the nape of his neck, something he'd been wanting to do since practically the first time he saw Lex in something that didn’t have a collar.  Maybe that purple sweater of his.  Clark swiped his tongue across his nape again then licked at the bump on the back of his head.  "You taste so good," Clark moaned.

"Keep licking," Lex suggested.

Clark liked that idea, and he moved down Lex's back, touching every freckle with his tongue, amazed there were so many, and delighted that no one else would get to see them.  At least from now on.  Just the thought of how many people might be out there who had already seen them bothered him.  There might be dozens.  Hundreds.  Who knows how many people Lex had had sex with.  And who could blame them.  Who wouldn't want to have sex with him?  But they couldn't have him, not anymore.

Lex let out a cry and he rolled off the bed.  He was clutching at his arm, not the one with the bruise, the other one.  "What?  What?" Clark said in a panic.

That was when the smell of burning fabric sunk in, and Clark turned to the bed and saw that it was on fire.  "Fuck," he yelled, and he grabbed the comforter up in milliseconds, smushing it to extinguish the fire.  Smushing Lex's beautiful linen kazillion dollar comforter into a softball sized ball of fabric.  Could this night get any worse?  Clark couldn't imagine how.  Maybe if his mom walked in right now.  Or his dad.  With a shotgun.  Clark would be tempted to take the shotgun and shoot himself.

Wait, wait.  Lex had been hurt.  He stared up to see that Lex was staring at the ball of fabric, still clutching his arm. 

"You're not laughing anymore," Clark said.

"I am inside," Lex told him.

"Are you sure?"

That got a smile.  "I will be very sure once my arm stops hurting."

Clark very gently moved closer to him and took his arm.  It was an angry red, with a couple of blisters already popping up.  "Did I flame you?"  Clark couldn't believe he actually burnt Lex.

"No, you didn't.  I just moved my arm, and didn't realize the bed was on fire."

Clark bit his lips as he stared at Lex.  "I can't tell you how sorry I am."  He held Lex's arm out and he blew on it.  He wasn't sure what his breath could do, but it seemed the thing to do.  In fascination he watched as small ice crystals formed on Lex's arm.

Lex said, "That's good.  Thanks."  There was a sound of awe in his voice, and Clark glanced up at his face.  "Your breath was icy cold, Clark.  I think it might be a new power."

"Great," Clark said, as he looked at Lex's arm.  "Now I can freeze parts off of you at the same time I'm setting you on fire."

"A year from now," Lex said, "as we're on our honeymoon, we are going to laugh about all of this."

"I don't really feel like laughing," Clark said.

"I admit the urge for laughter seems to have run out, but I can still smile."  Lex suited action to words, and smiled softly at Clark.  "And I still love you, and I still want you.  I can just see that we need to take things a lot slower.  We need to slowly let your body get used to the feeling of passion.  It's a heady experience even for someone without all your extra gifts."

"Gifts?" Clark snorted.  They seemed like a curse tonight.

"Gifts," Lex said without a hint of doubt.  "What got your eyes going, anyway?"

"Thinking about how many people might have seen your freckles," Clark said darkly.

That did get Lex laughing.  "Only you would get jealous about that."

"I want to be the only one," Clark said.

"You are," Lex told him.  "In every way that matters.  There might be people out there who have seen my freckles, but I don't even remember who they are."

Clark was slightly mollified by that.

"I don't know how to convince you that none of that matters.  For the most part I was high or drunk, or so depressed, it didn't matter who I was with.  Or it was to cement a business deal, or to woo a concession from someone.  It's never been about love.  Or even liking."

Clark couldn’t imagine that the people Lex had been with had felt the same.  He glanced at Lex's arm.  "We should put something on that."

"In a bit," Lex said.  "First, get back into bed with me."

Clark winced at the bed, now without its comforter.  "You sure you want to do that?"  God only knew what Clark would do next.

"Very sure.  You haven't even gotten to experience the best part."  Lex encouraged Clark to get on the bed until he was half sitting, leaning against the headboard.  Lex opened the bedside drawer and pulled out a new bottle of lubricant, taking a second to take off the wrapping.

Clark was glad it was a new bottle.  "Can we buy a new bed?"

"Absolutely," Lex said.  "And we'll throw all this bedding away, too, and buy new sheets and blankets."

Clark could only be immeasurably grateful that Lex was taking all his craziness in stride.  "I love you."

"I know, and that's why this will be the best part."  Lex settled himself between Clark's thighs and leaned back on Clark's chest.

"I love it so far," Clark said, kissing the side of Lex's neck then wrapping his arms around Lex.

"Put out your hand," Lex told him.

Clark held out his hand.

Lex put a large dollop of lube in the center of his palm.  "Just do what I show you, okay?"

"Okay." 

"Rub your hands together."

Clark did that.

"Now," Lex said, as he took Clark's hands and put them around Lex's cock.  "Nice and slow."  Lex's hands stayed over Clark's, directing him, keeping his stroking slow and even.

It gave Clark the time to enjoy what he was doing.  He was finally touching Lex's cock.  It was almost as big as his, narrower, but long and beautiful, and it made Clark's mouth water.  "Can I suck you?"

"Another time," Lex told him.  "Like I said, baby steps."

Clark found himself grimacing at the thought of what his teeth could do to Lex if he lost control.  "Right.  Baby steps.  Good idea."  He refocused in on the feel of Lex in his hands, the fit of Lex's ass against Clark's thighs.  Clark's cock was taking a rather large interest in the proceedings.  But Clark ignored it, because Lex was right.  Watching Lex's face as he grew closer to coming, and knowing that he was doing that, was pleasuring Lex, was responsible for those whimpers passing his lips, and his breathlessness, this was the best part. 

Then Lex was coming, and Clark could hardly breathe for watching him, both his face, and his cock as it jetted over Clark's hand.  It was hot and sexy, and Clark wanted to see it over and over again.  He turned Lex's head and began to kiss him, and Lex turned in his arms, and straddled Clark's thighs, taking Clark's cock into his hands, taking a second to pour some fresh lube into his hands. 

Clark put his hands on Lex's hips.  "Is this okay?"  He'd be willing to put his hands on the headboard, but he was afraid he might break it.

"Fine," Lex told him, taking Clark back in hand, and stroking him from root to tip.

Hands clenching, Clark heard Lex let out a short yelp, and he jerked his hands away from Lex's hips. 

"Close your eyes," Lex demanded, before Clark could get a good look. 

Clark found himself obeying, but he wrapped his hands around the top of the headboard to keep himself from grabbing Lex.  "Want me to move faster?" Lex asked.

Clark couldn't imagine anything better than exactly how Lex was touching him.  "Perfect.  This is perfect."

Lex stroked his finger underneath the head of Clark's cock, and after a few more strokes, Clark came, again.  He heard something splinter under his hands, but Clark ignored it.  Hopefully the bed would stay standing all night.  Then Lex was snuggled in next to him, hugging him tightly, and that felt wonderful, having Lex be naked and pressed against him.  "Can we sleep this way?"

"Sitting up?"

"No, naked."

"Of course," Lex said. 

Clark glanced down at Lex's hip, saw more bruising there.  "Lex, I'm sorry.  I can't believe how much I hurt you."

Chuffing out a soft laugh, Lex kissed his shoulder.  "It was worth it.  It was wonderful.  And we'll get better at it as we go along."

"You sure?"

"Positive."

Lex scrabbled at the sheets, trying to shift his body to get them out from under him, and Clark lifted Lex up easily, pulling the sheets down.  He had to move to get them from under his own butt, but then they were covered up, and shifting down until their heads lay on soft down pillows.  Clark thought about getting up and brushing his teeth, but then he'd have to leave Lex, and there was no way he was budging.  So, resigning his teeth to an unbrushed fate, Clark held Lex tightly, and easily fell asleep.

* * *

**Later the next evening**

"What's with Lex sort of limping and his arm?" Tony asked Abby as they sat on the couch together after dinner.  They'd all gotten together tonight to celebrate Tim's birthday.  Tony had arrived, with Gibbs, courtesy of Rich, just as they were sitting down to eat, but he'd had time to notice Lex wasn't in his usual perfect state of health.

Abby bit her lips, a hint of glee in her eyes, as she looked around.  Lex and Tim were talking World of Warcraft.  Lex had given Tim some gift that he'd gone into raptures about, although Tony had no idea what it was.  Martha was talking to Laura and Keith; the three of them were fast friends these days, and Tony was sure he saw a hint of interest for Martha in Keith's eyes.  Gibbs was talking to Bruce Wayne, who was keeping one eye on Abby.  The gossipmongers were in a twitter wondering if Gotham City's most eligible bachelor was off the market.  Tony suspected he was.  Bruce had met his match in Abby. 

Clark was nowhere to be seen, but if Tony had to guess, he'd say he was in the kitchen, nibbling on food.  Tony had never seen anyone eat as much as Clark.  Of course, he had all his superpowers to feed, so it was like he was eating for two hundred.  And he was, no doubt, listening to every word Lex was saying.  Clark had been unusually solicitous of Lex tonight, and Tony thought that Clark might be part of the reason Lex was hurt.  "Come on, give.  No one's listening."

"Clark could be."

"He'll be tuned into Lex.  He always is."

"Okay, then.  Clark told me that he and Lex did the deed last night."

Tony's eyebrows went up.  "Seriously?" 

"Lex told him that Martha gave them her blessing."

Tony approved, too.  Although he was a little surprised Martha had told them to go ahead.  "So what happened?"

"They had a few technical difficulties," Abby said.  "Clark had a hard time reining in his powers.  Lex looked a lot worse this morning.  He had ten bruises on his head like this."  Abby looked around again then put her hands on Tony's head.

Tony had no trouble figuring out that was blow job territory and he winced.  Lex was lucky his skull hadn't been perforated.  "Is he limping because of why I think he's limping?"

"They never got that far," Abby said.  "After Clark trashed the bathroom and set their bed on fire, Lex slowed everything way down."

Tony's eyes were wide as he stared at Abby, picturing the whole thing in his head.  He burst out laughing, his admiration for Lex at an all-time high.  Not that Tony didn't like a little pain while having sex, but he sure as hell wouldn't have hung around after almost getting his skull caved in. 

Lex was the right guy to handle a super strong alien.  Maybe it was because Lex tended to change things.  Or maybe the opposite.  He was like a huge rock in a river, and as the current swept by him, it had no option but to change course.  Because look at them all.  Every person in this room had changed course once they'd met the man. 

Tony could only be grateful for it.  His life was immeasurably better in every way, number one being his relationship with Gibbs.  As he looked around he knew he'd found a real family, one that would stand with him through thick and thin.

Clark came out of the kitchen and moved to stand by Lex, and Tony was glad to see he didn't look as if he'd overheard Tony and Abby's conversation.  Gibbs sat down next to Tony and asked, "What are you laughing about?"

"I'll tell you later," Tony said.  He didn't want to take another chance of Clark overhearing.  Clark had to feel badly enough about the whole thing, without listening to people gossip about it.  He laced his fingers with Gibbs', delighted he could do this.

Abby beamed at them both.  "You are so perfect together," she gushed.  Bruce came and sat by her side, and she leaned back against him.

Gibbs rolled his eyes at Abby’s words, but he didn't let go of Tony's hand.  What he did do down was lean in and whisper in Tony's ear.  "Let's go."

A delicious shiver ran down Tony's back and he nodded.  He stood, pulling Gibbs up with him.  He moved to Tim, slapped him on the back, wishing him a happy birthday again, and said his goodnights.  He wasn't sure if Tim was spending the night, or if he needed to be flown back, but he was confident someone else could figure that out.  All he wanted now was Gibbs in his bed, their bed, and the start of their lives together.

* * *

**Epilogue**

**May Year Two**

Clark ran his hand down his spandex clad thigh again, wishing he didn't feel so ridiculous.  The only thing that was keeping it on was the way Lex had peeled it from him last night telling him how sexy it was.  Clark quelled that thought as quickly as possible.  The last thing he needed was to get hard in this suit. 

Tonight was the night.  Bruce was in his Batman gear, the Batmobile was gassed up and ready to go.  All they needed were the right conditions, and they'd be off.

At first, they'd thought the two of them should show up together, at the same place, but then Lex had decided that Clark should use his powers for natural disasters, while Bruce would handle street crime and mutant criminals.  There would be times when they would fight together but, after Lex suggested it, there was a consensus that Clark's strengths leant themselves to different situations.

They’d gone with Bruce’s suggestion and were calling themselves the Justice League.  It was comprised of Clark and Bruce, and a large security contingent, all of whom had come from Lex or Bruce's security staff, including Tony and Gibbs.  The security staff had undergone additional training on everything from bioterrorist threats, crowd control, and search and rescue.

In Clark's ear came Tony's voice.  "Can you hear me?"

Clark nodded.  He and Bruce had both been fitted for the latest in long distance communication.  Tony would be Clark's extra eyes and ears if he needed assistance, and Gibbs was Bruce's.  Anytime either Bruce or Clark was out there, they'd have helicopters and pilots poised to take off, as well as allies on standby all over the world.  The allies had been painstakingly chosen over the last year by Gibbs and Tony, people who could be trusted to help if needed. 

Of course, no one knew how it would work if Clark really got in trouble, but Clark knew that Tony would have his back, and Lex would have his, and with all of them helping here, somehow he'd be taken care of no matter where he was.

Thanks to Lex and Abby, he had built up some immunity to the meteor rock.  It still made him sick, but he had a good minute before it incapacitated him.  That minute was all he'd need to make himself scarce.  He'd never find himself in the situation he'd been in two years ago when the meteor rock had brought him to his knees before he'd even had the chance to run.

Tim had managed to get hooked into every satellite circling the earth, some legally, some not so much, and they'd already sent Clark out on a day long air cruise around the world and they hadn't found a dead spot.  Verizon could only dream of such coverage. 

Tim and Abby would be making sure they never lost touch.  Tony and Gibbs would be at the other end of the microphone, but all the equipment was Abby and Tim's to maintain.  Clark loved to watch the two of them work the computers.  It was like watching a maestro lead an orchestra.

Once they were done with whatever they ended up doing tonight, there were already press releases written which would be adapted to the evening's events, and released all over the world.  Over time, they'd work with the world's leaders to create some sort of summoning system, where Bruce and Clark, and anyone else who had joined them by then, could be notified of a disaster. 

Clark didn't think it would be necessary, at least not for him.  A byproduct of all the equipment Tim and Abby were creating was an early warning system of almost every kind of natural disaster. 

"You ready?" Lex asked him, his hands on Clark's chest, over the S modeled after Alexander's chest plate.

"As ready as I'll ever be," Clark said.  Part of him was filled with stage fright while part of him couldn't wait to be out there putting his powers to good use.  He smiled at Lex, thinking about last night.  It had taken many more bruises, and an ocean's worth of patience on Lex's part, but they'd finally gotten their lovemaking figured out.  It had been months since Clark had hurt Lex inadvertently, not that Lex had ever blamed him, not once.  "I love you," Clark said, stunned, as always, by just how much.

"I love you, too," Lex said.  He leaned in, saying softly, "and I can't wait to take this suit off of you later."  Lex had wanted black.  So had Abby.  Clark had wanted something brighter, something friendlier.  They'd gone with half black and half blue.  Clark loved the color; he just didn't like that it was so tight.

"Mic's live," Tony called from where he was sitting at the computer station.  When they turned to look, Tony grinned and waved.

Clark grinned back.  "Hard to believe, isn't it?"  Not that Clark would ever choose to be kidnapped and held for auction, but it had changed his life for the better in every way.  It had brought Tony, and through him, Gibbs, Tim and Abby.  It had brought Lex fully into his life, as friend and lover, and soon to be husband.  It was a drag that his mom and dad had ended up getting divorced, but he could see how happy his mom was, and his dad was getting along okay.

"Got something," Tim yelled out.  "Earthquake in Italy."

"And here's one for you, Bruce," Abby said.  "Some wacko calling himself the Joker is ripping up one of the museums in Gotham City."

Bruce nodded, leaping into the Batmobile. 

"I've put the coordinates in the GPS," Abby told him.

"I've been to the museum, Abby," Bruce said.

Abby made a face at him then grinned, sprinting over to give him a last hug.  "Do not get hurt."

"How can I with all this gear you made me?" he said.  To Clark, he said, "Ready?"

Clark kissed Lex quickly and then moved to the car.  They'd leave together tonight as they met their new destiny.  Clark quickly looked back at everyone assembled, his friends and family, the people who would protect him and Bruce, watching over their every move.

"Let's go," he said, lifting off the ground, following the Batmobile as Batman gave it some serious gas. 

As they left the cave, hitting the road where Batman would go right, while Clark flew left, Clark felt excitement sizzle through him.  Tonight he'd become everything he was meant to be.  And then, when it was done, he'd come home and let Lex peel off his suit so he could just be Clark again.  Unable to think of any way in which his life could be richer, Clark waved at Batman as they flew off to build the future.

The End


End file.
